


It's Probably a Front

by Onlymostydead



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Fake Dating, Fluff, Food/eating, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, Misunderstandings, Police, Referenced Kidnapping, Transphobia, past abusive relationship, playful banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymostydead/pseuds/Onlymostydead
Summary: Dick Grayson, a Gotham city police officer, has been lying to his co-workers about being in a relationship to avoid their parties and various other events. Unfortunately, with the work holiday party approaching, he is hard pressed to find someone to play the role of his enigmatic partner, who has a crazier schedule than he does.And when Roy suggests a guy, Dick can tell he, at least, is betting for more than a fake relationship. But when Wally West, his fake date, perfectly fits the description of the perpetrator in a crime he's investigating... Will he be able to figure out the truth before December 15th?





	1. The Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by Ayzenigma! It took so long, but I hope it's worth it <3

If Dick could avoid looking desperate he would, at almost any cost. He liked being the more chill one, the rational friend. It was nice. Okay, maybe that description didn't really fit him, but he liked the idea of it. Still, he always managed to get himself into the weirdest situations...

...like convincing all of his coworkers at the police station that he had a partner who worked even weirder hours than he did. It was an easy lie, and one that got him out of having to go to parties and baby showers and events all across the board. It was convenient... Until it really wasn't.

"So, you're gonna bring your partner to the station's holiday party, right?" Irene had to ask, and that was the moment he knew that he was royally fucked. 

Dick forced a smile, pretending all the blood hadn't just run out of his face. "Of course! If the work schedule-"

"-allows for it." She finished, rolling her eyes. "I know. Just wanted to let you know that plus one's are allowed... And encouraged, if it's this enigmatic partner of yours."

"Being shy isn't a crime, you know."

Irene raised her eyebrows. "I think this has gone beyond shy, and into borderline creepy. Not wanting anyone to know their name? Or who they are at all?"

Dick shrugged. "I mean, who really wants to accidentally run into people who knew you when you were younger?"

"True, but..." She sighed. "If you follow that logic, you'd think that they never go outside."

He laughed at that, shaking his head. "I'll ask if they want to come, alright? And I'll ask them about sharing more information."

"Mm, alright." Irene did not look convinced. "I mean, it's in nearly a month. Plenty of time in advance."

"I'll ask!"

"Okay... Oh, and did you finish filling out that report?"

"The updated one with the additional interview?" Dick asked.

"None other."

"Yeah, do you need it?"

"No, just needed to make sure you got it done. Last night was crazy." She yawned. "I swear, I never sleep... And I take that back, I could use some info on it."

"Me neither; what do you need?" Dick smiled, trying, and failing, not to yawn. "Did you-"

"No, I did not." Irene predicted what he was going to say, rolling her eyes. "I was wanting the physical description of the perp."

"White male, around six feet tall. Thin, with what the victim described as a long face and a broken nose."

"Any distinctive marks?" 

Dick shook his head. "The alleyway lighting was poor enough that they didn't get a good look at him, and we both know the inside of that bar is darker."

"Hair?"

"The guy was wearing a hat."

"Weird," She muttered, but he shook his head.

"It's November in Gotham." Dick reminded. "That's not too odd. Anything else?"

"Nope, you can go get your own work done."

"Alright."

He fought back another yawn, covering his mouth as he made his way back to his own desk. He wasn't due out on street patrol for another half an hour, so he really should try to get a little bit of work done.  
But shit. He could have just told her the truth, but... Now he had a month to find a friend willing to come to a police station holiday party, and his contact list didn't look promising. 

Fuck. How did he always get himself into things like this? 

***

"Come on, Babs, you've gotta know someone-"

Barbara sighed, and Dick could feel how she rolled her eyes over the phone. "I already told you; the only people I know are either your exes, or lesbians who couldn't pretend to be in love with a man for shit, or people who are outside your age range."

"...outside my age range which way?"

"Dick. I'm not fueling the fact that you seem to attract men older than you. It's weird. I don't know anybody, okay?" She let out a little puff of breath. "And before you ask; I can't go with you. Commissioners daughter, remember?"

"Shit." Dick muttered more curses under his breath. "Thank you for trying, Babs. Still on for coffee on Tuesday?"

"Of course. See you, Dickie."

"See you."

Hanging up, Dick let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. Deciding to go through his contacts from 'best bet' to 'worst option' had sounded like a good idea, but this had ended up... Disheartening. Searching through the list, he finally found Donna. 

"Hey, Dick, what's up?"

"Hey, Donna!" He smiled; the fact that she picked up the phone was a good sign already. "I may have a favor to ask of you..."

"Make it quick, alright? I'm a little busy; I've got a shoot in an hour."

"Alright, so... I may have lied to my coworkers and told them I have a partner, and now I have to-"

"You're asking me to fake date you?" Donna interrupted. "Dickie. Sweetheart. You know I won't do that."

He winced. "I wasn't necessarily asking for you..."

"I only know lesbians, Dick. And models."

"Would anyone-"

"Sorry." She sighed. "I wish I could help you, but I really have to go. Bye, sweetheart!"

Dick slumped. "Bye."

Well, that wasn't as good as he hoped. On to the next name, he supposed... Maybe he would find someone by the end of this, and maybe he would have to resort to some online dating site. He hoped that he wouldn't have to lie to anyone, though. Pretending to be in love with someone who actually liked him would be a bad plan.  
With a deep sigh, he moved on to the next option.

***

"Hello?"

"Hey, Roy..." Dick trailed off; as good of a friend as Roy was, he was pretty far down the list.

At this point, things were not looking good.

"Oh, I do not like how that sounds." He sighed. "What is it, Dickie?"

"I... Kinda backed myself into an awkward situation." 

"Like what?"

"I may or may not have pretended to have a partner to get out of having to go to coworkers parties... And now they invited them to he holiday party in a month." Dick explained. "I was wondering..."

"What day is it?"

"Friday the fifteenth."

Roy winced. "No can do."

"Come on, I can find somebody to watch Lian." He tried not to beg, but... That's what this was. "Please?"

"I already have something planned for that night." He added. "Queen family holiday party... I'm not too keen on forgiving Ollie, but I'm trying my best with him. He's letting things be on my terms, you know?"

Dick didn't press it any further; he knew that was important. "Do you know anybody?"

"Maybe. How about I get back to you on that?"

"Alright, sounds good." He tried not to let the disappointment show through his voice. "Thank you, Roy."

"Love you, dickhead."

"Love you too, asshole."

He hung up, and flopped backwards onto his couch. For once, it seemed like everyone in his life was busy. Donna couldn't, Kori wouldn't, Babs didn't know anyone the police didn't already know, he wasn't trusting Jason or Tim to suggest someone...

He would have to count on Roy, because there weren't many options he had left. With a groan, he turned to Tinder.

***

The chime of a text message from Dick's phone had him grabbing it instantly, despite his early it was. Sure he had an early morning patrol tomorrow... But what if it was important?

Roy had sent the message, and it was just a picture of a guy. He was cute, with a mess of curly red hair, sparse ginger eyebrows, and piercing green eyes. His nose was fairly straight, or would have been if it hadn't clearly been broken at some point. As it was, it took a severe turn to the right. The smile tugging at his thin lips was a little dopey, not showing his teeth. Freckles covered nearly every bit of his pale skin, and a little bit of adult acne still clung to his forehead and cheeks.

(Roy): think you could fake date him?

(Dick): he's p cute

(Roy): you just have a thing for redheads 

(Dick): not tru

(Roy): you kno it is, don't argue

Shaking his head, Dick sighed. It wasn't worth it arguing with Roy, the moment you gained ground, he changed the finish line. It was irritating, but funny when it came to stupid things... Like his thing for redheads.

(Dick): alright, whats his name?

(Roy): Wally West

(Roy): he's a forensic scientist at he crime lab, works weird hours conducive to excuses

(Dick): you're amazing 

(Roy): I know

(Roy): u free tomorrow around three?

(Dick): depends

(Dick): for what?

(Roy): getting coffee with him

(Dick): hell yeah

(Roy): thought so

(Roy): am I the best or what?

(Dick): you're the best

(Roy): hell yeah I am

Snickering, Dick shut off his phone. For now, sleep. Tomorrow, he had a fake date.

***

Wally was early. Of course he was early. Dick didn't know why he was thinking like that, since he knew nearly nothing about the guy, but... His appearance was fairly telling. Other than the past-broken nose, he was a picture perfect nerd. As Dick stealth watched him through the café windows, he could make that much out clearly.

He looked a little older in real life, probably close to Dick's age, if a year or so younger. He had a little less acne, and his hair was less well tamed, but the light blue button up made it look impossibly red. An important thing to add, for the nerd factor especially, was the dark green bow tie.  
Overall, Dick felt like he was either severely underdressed in his skinny jeans and tee shirt, or maybe Wally was overdressed.

Either way, he stopped being creepy and stepped inside.

Instantly, Wally recognized him and stood up. "Hi! Oh man, this is so weird. I'm Wally, nice to meet you... Wait, you already know my name. Weird."

He talked at about a million miles an hour, but his smile was adorable, especially when it wasn't the strained, mouth-closed smile in the photo. He had looked so tense in a that picture, Dick was worried he would end up being just like that in real life. Stuff and unmoving. 

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled at his enthusiasm, and the outstretched hand, but he took it. "I'm Dick."

"Yeah, uh, Roy told me. So... Should we get coffee?"

Dick shrugged. "Yeah, let's go."

He got coffee, Wally got hot chocolate. He thought about laughing at him, but they hadn't known each other for very long. What if he was offended? The last thing he needed was to mess this up.  
And besides... Looking at Wally now, really looking at him, he didn't want to insult him. The guy was adorable, from the fact that he was wearing beat up running shoes with his nerd getup, to the way he bounced on his feet while he waited for his drink.

"And before you ask, I have ADHD." Wally blurted out. "Can't have caffeine, makes me have seizures. Weird, huh? Sorry if I'm rambling, I just talk when I'm nervous."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Why are you nervous?"

"I've never fake dated anyone... Well, I've never really dated anybody." He admitted, blushing. "I mean, I was with Roy, for a little bit... But that didn't last long."

"You were with Roy?"

The barista put the drinks on the counter, and Wally zipped forward to grab them. "Careful, it's hot."

They both sat back down at the table Wally had been sitting in originally, placed nicely in the corner, where you could see everything going on in the little café. It was pretty sleepy right now, thankfully. Not much noise.

"Yeah, I met Roy online. It only took a couple months for him to realize we were better as friends." Wally explained, with just a hint of bitterness on the edge of his voice. "But like, we're pretty good pals now, so I guess he's right."

When Wally grinned, Dick noted two teeth missing on his right side.

He nodded. "Yeah, besides, he's got a lot on his plate right now." 

"He really does, especially with his daughter."

"That does make dating him hard." Dick pointed out. "He's my ex too, but I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment."

"Hence the fake dating?" Wally cocked his head to the side, curls flopping just a little bit.

He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, it's for a-"

"Work holiday party." They said at the same time.

Wally blushed. "Roy already told me. What did he tell you about me, by the way? He barely told me a thing about you."

Dick shrugged again. "You're a forensic scientist with a crazy schedule, and that's about it."

He nodded. "That's about right. He said you were a cop, but a good cop. And that means a lot from Roy."

"Aw, I'm flattered."

"Most police around here really aren't great, so I was skeptical at first... But you don't seem like a bad guy. Is that a weird thing to say?" Wally ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"You're fine, it's all good." Dick smiled. "Besides, we have to learn about each other somehow. I have been lying about you for the past six-ish months."

"Six months!? We have to fake a long term relationship?" He whistled. "Yikes. That's hard."

"Yeah... Sorry in advance?"

"Don't be, this is cool." 

Dick snorted. "I mean, we just have to pretend to be dating for that one party."

"But..." Wally waggled his practically nonexistent ginger eyebrows. "We could be friends?"

Taking a sip of his coffee, he tried very hard not to laugh. The way he said it, the fact his elbows here on the table, leaning forward... This guy was a Class A dork and Dick could already feel it making him blush.

"I really need friends."

Abandoning his previous decision, Dick laughed. Hard.

"At least, that's what Roy says." He added quickly. "Like, I have friends... At the lab. And my aunt and uncle."

"...is that it?"

"No, there's Roy." Wally nodded, counting on his fingers. "And I have a couple cousins I hang out with sometimes."

"No offense, but that's sad."

He sighed. "I know. I think that's only eight... Or nine?"

"Well, at least we're both losers?" 

"You? A loser?" Wally laughed. "You're like, gorgeous."

Dick could feel his face heat up instantly. "Thanks. I mean, you're pretty cute, too."

He turned as red as a beet. "I'm supposed to take compliments, so thank you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Roy called me last night, being all..." He tucked his right arm behind his back, simulating Roy's amputation; Dick couldn't help but snort. "Wally. If he compliments you, you have to take it. He's actually just a nice person, he's not being tricky."

Dick blushed. "Well, that's nice of him. He's a great friend."

"Yeah, totally." He nodded. "Well... We should probably like... Learn things we should know about each other, right?"

"Probably, so... What's your favorite color?"

"Blue." Wally said decisively. "But it used to be red and yellow."

Dick smirked. "What? Both together, or separately?"

"Together... and I wore it constantly." He winced. "People told me not to, but I figured they were just assholes."

"Don't."

"I knew that already!" He squeaked, turning a shade redder. "Well, what's your favorite color?"

"Blue." Dick shrugged. "It's most people's, after all."

"Yeah... Ice cream flavor?"

"I like strawberry."

Wally grinned. "Rocky road."

"What about..." Dick scratched his chin. "Where did you grow up?"

He tensed for a moment, just enough for Dick to notice. "Blue Hills, Nebraska. Then I went to college in Central, lived in Keystone for a year, and transferred here a couple years back."

"That's cool. I've been to most of those places." 

"Nobody's been to Blue Hills." Wally grinned. "It's a shitty little town that deserves to die."

Dick snorted. "Wow, fair. I grew up in a circus, so I-"

"Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"That's... Crazy, man." He gave him a wide eyed stare. "Keep going."

Dick realized what a mistake this was. "Then... I moved to Gotham. Then Blüdhaven, and a few other places. I ended up settling here pretty recently, really."

"Then how do you know Roy?"

"We were friends in high school." He explained. "It was me, him, a guy named Garth, a girl named Donna, and my girlfriend at the time, Kori."

"Wow." Wally whistled. "You had a lot of friends in high school."

"Not really, I mean... That's only four."

He gestured to himself. "Think about who you're compared to."

"True, true..." Dick shook his head. "What's your favorite animal?"

"I don't know. Probably dogs, but not small ones. You?"

"I hate to be that kid, but elephants."

Wally gave him a lopsided grin. "Circus kid. Alright, uh... Did you do any sports?"

Dick nodded. "Gymnastics, cheerleading, and track and field."

"I ran cross country and track! What events did you do?"

"Honestly, I don't remember." Dick shrugged. "I sprinted, I know that."

"Ah, I'm long distance myself. Only reason I got into college." He admitted. "My grades weren't too great at that point."

"That's understandable." Remembering his coffee, he took a sip; too sweet. "High school sucked."

"Really did." Wally nodded. "It's all bullshit."

"Really true." Dick set his cup back down. "So I'm guessing you were just as nerdy then as you are now?"

"Ohh yeah. And with worse hair, if you can believe it."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "I think your hair is cute." 

It really was. His red curls were unruly, sure, but the way the sides were cut shorter, leaving the top to move around a little bit? Adorable.

Wally turned bright red. "Thanks."

Smiling back, Dick was surprised to find the urge to kiss him on the cheek. Fighting that back down, he managed a little laugh. 

"Seriously, it suits you."

"Okay, I'm supposed to take compliments, but this is a lot."

He laughed harder. "Alright, alright. So, just tell me about yourself."

"...what do you mean?" Wally's fingers started drumming on the table. 

"...I don't know. Never mind. What about... Pineapple on pizza?"

"Dude, I'll eat anything." He answered with a grin. "You?"

"It's the best kind."

Wally laughed. "Well, I guess I'll be able to fake date you after all."

"Any other deal breakers?"

He shrugged. "I mean, a lot, but not for fake relationships. As long as you didn't vote for-"

"I didn't." Dick cut him off. "Gosh, Lex Luther fucking sucks."

"He really does. Especially like..." He scratched the back of his neck, and ran his hand through his hair again. "As a trans guy..."

"Ooh, yeah, that's rough."

Wally shrugged. "Not so bad when it's not a bald anus running the country, but yeah."

Nodding, he took another sip of his coffee; the sweetness didn't seem too bad anymore. "That's a good name for him."

"My cousin calls him Voldemort." 

Dick nearly spat out his coffee. "That's great, oh man."

"Yeah, my aunt's a reporter, and she gets really heated talking about him... I have received many a rant from her on the topic."

Dick snorted. "Have you even talked to Roy about him?"

"Pfft, fuck no." Wally took a sip of his hot chocolate. "He's a Native American single dad who grew up on a reservation. He is rightfully pissed at Luther, but I do not have the energy to listen to one of his rants."

"You sure seem to have a lot of energy." Dick chuckled.

He turned scarlet. "Sorry, I... I know, I'm just always-"

"Hey, I never said it's a bad thing. It's cute."

If anything, he just turned redder. "Th-thanks. How did we end up talking about politics?"

"No idea."

"Wait, it was... Dating deal breakers. That's what it was."

"Ahh, yeah." Dick sipped his coffee. "You don't smoke, do you?"

"Nope." Wally grinned. "Never have, never will. Don't drink, either."

"Wait... Are you Mormon?"

He raised a little ginger eyebrow. "No, I'm a man of science. Why?"

"The no coffee, the no alcohol..."

"Coincidences." Wally brushed it off. "I just don't like drinking, you know? It makes people violent."

Does it make you violent? Dick wondered, Looking Wally over again. He had a small, jagged scar going up into his hairline, only visible when he rakes a hand through his curls. He wondered if he wore his hair like that partially to cover it up. The two missing teeth. The crooked nose.

"Oh yeah. I see enough of that, being a cop." Dick laughed it off; what was making him think like that? "I swear, this city is crazy when you work the night shift."

"I can't imagine." He whistled. "Like, I run to and from work pretty early and pretty late sometimes, so I've seen some weird shit, but having dealing with that be my job? No way."

"I mean, but at the same time... It feels important." Dick shrugged. "Like... If it wasn't me doing it, it could be someone else. And they might not feel the same way as I do, or they might be more eager to go to violence, and I can't have that. Not when I could help."

Wally was listening intently, eyes wide. "Wow. Are you just like, made to be a hero or something?"

He laughed. "I don't think anyone is."

"Well, I think you are." Grinning, he took another sip. "All 'doing the right thing' and stuff. You remind me a lot of my uncle."

"Is that a good thing?"

Wally laughed, his cheeks turning just s little pink. "Yeah, he's a forensic scientist in Central. He's the one who inspired me to go down this path, actually. It's all about doing the right thing for him."

He picked at his fingers, hands shaking a little bit. Dick noticed, not sure if he was surprised or not, that he had scars there, too. Around his knuckles especially; the kind of scars that developed from throwing a punch. Interesting.

"Well, he sounds like a great guy." He swallowed, trying not to get too lost in thought.

The scars still taunted him, like they knew something he didn't.

"Yeah, he really is." Wally smiled wide. "He's like, the closest thing to a dad I think I'll get."

Dick raised his eyebrows.

"What? We're supposed to have been dating for six months, right?" He shrugged. "Or should I give you a fake backstory, so that you can tell me whether or not your cop friends will believe it?"

"Don't try fake stuff, Bruce'll be able to tell really quick."

All of the color drained out of his face. "Bruce?"

"Yeah, one of the detectives." Dick cocked his head to the side; why was he shaking? "Why?"

Wally shrugged, running his hand through his hair like that didn't happen. "Nothing. I see him sometimes, and he scares me. The detectives always do."

"Don't worry about him, he's a big softie."

He broke a smile. "Really?"

"Ohh yeah." Dick nodded, taking another slurp of coffee. "I should know, he partially raised me."

At first he raised an eyebrow, but recognition seemed to click somewhere in Wally's head. "For the Gotham part?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Is it bad that I want to apologize?"

Dick snorted. "Probably? He's really not as scary as he seems."

"Yeah he is!"

"You've only seen him in work mode." He argued.

"True. I've only seen him at like, three in the morning, too. He's like a cryptid."

"...never mind, he's pretty scary when he's sleep deprived."

Wally winced. "But he never...?"

"Never what?"

He swallowed. "Never mind. He's a good guy, I'm sure, just... A little freaky."

"Yeah, pretty much.." Dick shrugged. "He really is a great guy... If a bit emotionally constipated. He's almost like a dad to me. Almost."

Wally grinned. "Alright, just making sure. 

The crooked nose and the aversion to alcohol. Violent past? Or perhaps raised around violence... That would also explain his restlessness, how often he flinched, and how he didn't know how to take compliments. But that still didn't explain the knuckles, or the scar on his head.

Why was Wally making him so nervous like this? He had no reason to suspect him of anything.

"I mean, I guess it's just 'cause none of my family is like that, probably. They're all..." He made a strange face. "Kinda nuts."

"Nuts how?"

"I mean, there's kind of a family feud between two different sides, my uncle's more involved with that than I am, but it's gotten pretty intense a couple of times... Like there was a time that my cousin, on the bad side, he was doing some weird stuff with my cousin Bart on the good side, like kind of stalking him and stuff? And even on the good side, we're all a little intense. Like, there as this one time that my uncle had to like, go meet another uncle on the middle of the night because they were clashing over who had custody over my cousin, which is weird because my uncle-

"Okay, pause." Dick interrupted. "Can I get names?"

Wally's cheeks flushed. "I mean, I only have three family members worth knowing... My Uncle Barry, my Aunt Iris, and my Cousin Bart. But my Uncle Eobard was the other uncle involved here."

"That's not a name."

"Eobard? Sure it is." He snickered. "It's Dutch, I think. But anyway, no one really knows what happened between Barry and Eobard because they won't tell, but I've heard everything from fistfight to gun threats all the way to police getting involved... I don't think the police got involved though because Barry, he's a forensic scientist with the police, and if they got involved he would have said something to my Aunt Iris. She's amazing, makes the best cookies, and... Wait. I was talking about the standoff, wasn't I?"

Dick nodded.

"Anyway... I think it was a fistfight, but Bart's pretty sure nothing ever came to blows because of stuff Barry said to him, but I also know Barry tries to keep Bart a little, I don't know... More sheltered? But yeah, then Bart got a restraining order on Eobard and it was all fine."

"Yikes. That's..."

Wally shrugged. "Family, right?"

Dick raised an eyebrow. "I guess... Also, you said their names are Barry and Bart?"

"I know. My family is famous for bad names." He grinned like that was something to be very proud of. "There's two Bartholomew's, a Thaddeus, a Wallace, a Rudolph who you don't need to know, an Eobard-"

"Still not a name."

"But that's the side of the family you don't need to know about. Okay?"

Dick nodded. "Alright, I can live with that."

"And you?"

"Well..." The situation was complicated, but he decided to try his best; he liked Wally, so far. "There's Bruce, my legal guardian. And he adopted Jason, Cass, and Tim, which is two brothers and one sister. Then he had Damian, and he's fostering Duke. Resulting in four brothers, one sister."

Wally whistled. "That's a lot."

"Yup, really is." Dick agreed. "It gets a little messy, but it's alright. And Bruce's godfather, Alfred, is like a grandpa to me."

"Alright, so that's..." He started counting on fingers. "Scary Bruce, Jason, Cass, Tom? Damian, and Duke?"

"Tim, but other than that, you got it."

He grinned, sitting up a little straighter. "And Alfred, the godfather."

Dick snorted. "Don't say 'godfather' like that, it makes him sound like he's involved with the Mafia."

"What? That's what the word 'godfather' reminds me of." Wally shrugged, upping back his hot cocoa. "You've got a lot of family."

"Eh, not really." He stared distastefully at the top-sweet coffee. "I mean, only four more than you."

"Yeah, that's over double." Wally pointed out. "Then again... I just don't have a lot of family."

"Let's just say that both are true and move on."

"Yeah, that's probably the best idea." He agreed, drinking the last of his cocoa. "Is it weird that I feel like I've known you longer than I actually have?"

Dick blushed, though he wasn't sure why. "I don't know. You're pretty cool, though. I'm glad that I'm not stuck fake dating an asshole."

"I'm glad you don't think I'm an asshole."

"Does that not happen often?"

Wally shrugged. "I mean, no one's perfect... I don't think people think I'm an asshole. I just work weird hours, and stay up later than I should... And I might get a little snappy at people when I get frustrated. Does that make me an asshole?"

Dick shook his head. "No, I think it makes you human."

"Phew! That's good. I was worried for a sec." He smiled. "So... Star Wars, or Star Trek?"

"Recent, or old?" 

Wally cocked his head to the side. "Both, I wanna hear this."

"For recent, it's gotta be Star Trek." Dick said, taking a sip of the coffee anyway. "Tim drags me to all of those when they first come out, and they're really not bad. For old, I'm going Star Wars."

"Why?"

"Because I've never seen old Star Trek."

Wally looked offended. "Man, I know what our next date is gonna be."

Dick laughed, really, sincerely, laughed. "We're going to watch old Star Trek as a date?"

"Anything can be a date... Right?" He shrugged. "I don't know, that's just what Roy used to say."

"Well, I guess he's right about that." 

"I mean, we can do something else if you don't want to!" He added quickly. "After all, this whole thing is fake. You really don't have to-"

"Nah, I don't think a TV show from the sixties will kill me." Dick grinned. "What do I have to lose?"

Wally smiled, blushing a little as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well then... When are you free?"

"How's next Thursday afternoon? I work the morning shift that day, so I'll be tired, but at least I would be free all that night."

"Wait, let me check my schedule..." He pulled out his phone, fingers moving ridiculously fast.

Dick was surprised to see that the screen wasn't cracked. He wasn't sure why, but that had seemed like it would fit into Wally's character. Everything about him, from the messiness of his hair to the missing teeth and crooked nose, seemed a bit haphazard.  
Then again, those were the things he couldn't really change. His clothes were nice, and his bow tie was straight. The only thing throwing that off was the running shoes.

"Yeah... I get off at four on Thursday. Would four thirty work? And I kinda assumed at my place, because of the Star Trek, but..."

"Your place is good." Dick nodded, finishing up his cup of coffee; he had a feeling the overly sweet aftertaste wouldn't leave his mouth for the rest of the day. "Can I get your address? For that matter, and your number?"

"Oh, yeah. Duh." Wally handed over his phone, already open to input a new contact. "Just put it there."

Dick handed over his own, and they each put in their respective information. He handed Wally's back, after Wally had already just put his on the table. He looked at his phone, and-

"Sorry, I gotta run." Wally blurted, already sliding out of his seat. "It was super nice to meet you, Dick. See you Thursday!"

And with that, he was out the door in a whirlwind. Dick had to admit that he wished they could have talked for longer, but... 

No. He wasn't going to think about Wally like that. This was a fake date; that's what they both agreed to. With a deep sigh, Dick threw away his cup and followed out the door.


	2. Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick runs Wally's name through the criminal database at work, figuring out some things that open more questions than answers. The two share their second fake date, this time at Wally's place, and Dick tries to figure out what exactly is going on. And Dick finally turns his questions back on the one who set this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have given me such positive feedback and I am overwhelmed! Thank you all. 
> 
> Updates will be on Monday's and Wednesday's!

One of the first things Dick did when he got to work on Thursday morning was check the database for any Wally West's. It seemed odd to him that he hadn't thought to do it before, but it was better late than never, he supposed. Especially with the kind of people Roy was friends with.  
Okay, he shouldn't make such broad statements. Roy had lived an interesting life, and had met some... Interesting people. That was just how things were. And while Wally had said they dated, he didn't really know how the two met.

But nothing turned up. There were plenty of other West's, and there were even a few Wally West's, but none of them were his Wally.

His Wally? What was he doing, thinking of him like that...

Maybe it was the fact that it felt a little bit like an actual date. Sure, it was goofy and weird, but he got the sense that was kinda just how Wally was. It was adorable.

Sighing, Dick went right back to work. He couldn't waste time thinking about Wally... 

Even if he wanted to. Even if so many things about him seemed so backward to each other: the combination of messy and ordered. It was strange...

But now wasn't the time. He'd get to see him later, after all. Right now, he had work. With a defeated sigh, he pulled up the files he had been working over.

...except, instead of the previous day's work, he got the interview he had shared with Irene a few days ago. Looking at it now, with the recent developments...

-White male, around six feet tall. 

How tall was Wally? Dick himself was only about five seven, which could occasionally skew what he perceived people's heights as, but around six foot sounded right. He would need to double check that.

-Thin

That was true; Wally's wrists were bony and tiny, all his fingers long and thin, as well as his actual figure.

-Victim described "long face."

Another yes. 

-Broken nose

While Wally's nose didn't look broken recently, and it wasn't very smashed up, it was certainly not straight. In a dimly lit alleyway, with only the street light shining through, it would look like quite the severe angle.

-Wearing a hat

So that took Wally's extremely distinctive curly red locks out of view; if it had been him, which it probably wasn't. But the recent developments were the interesting part. It was suspected to be gang related, with some information that had turned up with the victim. Gangs, crime families... Something like that.

Speaking of the victim, who would the guy happen to be?

Eobard Thawne. Who else was named Eobard?

Exiting out of the tab, Dick's heart pounded as he switched to doing his real work for the day. Still, he couldn't get Wally's face out of his mind... Just for a different reason.

***

Wally's apartment wasn't in a great side of town, but it was one that Dick knew very well. But it was on the third floor, so not too bad off there, and compared to some others, the building looked nice. A little old, sure, but definitely not too shabby. The rent there was probably pretty decent, too.

So Dick took the stairs on the way up, and stood in front of Wally's door.

So why was it so hard to knock?

At first he had waited for his blood to settle a little bit, so he wouldn't look like he was blushing, but it had been long enough by now that he didn't even feel warm from the trip up the stairs. And yet he just stood there, staring at the numbers on the door.  
He checked the time on his phone; it was four thirty one now, a minute past when they agreed to meet up. Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he knocked.

Immediately, the door was open. At least, it felt like that. Wally had opened the door mere seconds after Dick knocked. He felt a little guilty, wondering if he had been kept waiting.

Wally didn't look mad, though. He looked as cheerful as he had last time, with his lopsided smile and bright green eyes. It hadn't occurred to Dick to really see how tall Wally was last time, but he clearly did fit into the 'around six foot' label. His lanky limbs had to add to that, then again. In place of the button up and bow tie was a blue long sleeve cross country shirt and a pair of black jeans.

"Hey Dick! Come in, I like, just finished cleaning up. This is the most organized my apartment will probably ever be." Wally beckoned for him to follow him inside. "You can and probably should leave your shoes on, unless you like, stepped in something gross or something."

The apartment was not organized. To Wally's credit, the only clothes strewn about were a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie bundled up on the floor, but other than that? The place was kind of a wreck. Stacks of paper and books were left in odd places, as if he set them down anywhere it happened that he was reading, then he never moved them back to where they belonged. Scatterings of mugs seemed to have collected themselves on every table. Three lab coats, a light jacket, and a grocery bag were hung from the little line of hooks he had for coats by the entryway.  
But again, the weird combination of order and chaos; beneath where his small TV was hanging was a bookcase that held some movies, and some books. The books were on the left hand side, with a few missing spaces that Dick assumed were just from the scattered ones he saw around. The movies were all orderly, in their places, lined up neat and tidy.

"Alright, Star Trek." Wally flopped down on the faded dark blue couch, and Dick followed suit. "The question is, which episode..."

He raised an eyebrow. "The first one?"

"Nah, that's not how Star Trek works. It has no overarching plot lines, it's just... How it is."

"Makes some sense, I guess." Dick nodded. "Then why not just pick one completely randomly?"

"...but what if we got a weird one?"

He shrugged. "Wouldn't that just be how it is?"

"You seem to underestimate how weird. There are some really weird ones. But... Let's just go 'The Trouble with Tribbles.' That sounds like the right place to go." Wally decided, reaching for the box.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Don't trust the Internet?"

"What?"

"The physical copies of the movies."

"Ohhhh." Wally shrugged. "I guess I... I don't know. I like things to feel real? Sorry, I don't know if that makes any sense."

"No, I... I think I get it." Dick frowned, then nodded. "My little brother does the same thing."

"Which one? Your family is huge."

He wasn't sure if he should be surprised that Wally remembered that or not; he was just like that, from what he had figured.

"Jason." He answered, once he realized he had been thinking too long. "He isn't a hoarder, but things aren't quite real to him unless he can hold them in his hands."

"Yeah, pretty much." Wally grinned. "Alright, say hello to William Shatner."

So they watched it. They laughed most of the way through the episode, mostly just little snickers and snorts here and there. The acting was good, but some of the special effects very much showed the time.  
Still, Dick had a hard time focusing on it. The connection he had drawn from Wally to Jason was throwing him off, for some reason. Somehow the scar slashed down Jason's cheek paralleled the scar on Wally's hairline, the crooked teeth compared to his two missing ones. The fidgety behavior, the slight hoarding problem...

Had Wally been homeless? 

There was no good way to ask that question, especially the second time he had met him... Ever. It was a bad habit, he guessed, to break people down like that. It could just be a nervous thing he does. He could have lost his teeth when he crashed his bike as a kid, or if he was in a car accident. The scar on his hairline could have been from just about anything. It was just pretentious to sit and try to figure out a person's life without asking them.  
Or it could be gang activity. The way he talked about his family, the so-called standoff...

"Well? First episode of the good Star Trek ever... How was it?"

Dick shrugged. "I'll admit, William Shatner is pretty cute."

Wally snorted. "That's the takeaway? You might be even gayer than I am."

"I don't know, you're pretty gay."

"Yeah... I think we're just different kinds of gays." He decided, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"And what type of gay am I?"

"Stealth gay." Wally answered quickly. "You talk pretty level, you're a police officer which is a really straight job, you know how to drive-"

"How do you know that I can drive?" Dick interrupted. "And besides, some gays can drive."

"Yeah, I mean, technically I can drive but... I'm afraid to." He shuddered. "And I'm pretty sure they don't hire cops who can't drive."

Afraid to drive? Car accident seemed more likely than ever, pushing the case further from his mind.

Dick laughed, regardless. "I think that's the first time anyone's told me that my sexuality was subtle."

Wally shrugged. "You're just so nice. It seems like a lot of the gay guys I meet... Aren't."

"Like Roy?"

He shook his head. "No, Roy is... He's pretty great. I mean, I know we're just pretending to date, but whenever I try to date guys - even if they're bi or pan or poly - aren't chill with me being trans. Roy genuinely didn't give a shit about that... It was nice."

A flare of jealousy lit up in his chest, but he stamped it out again; that was not the point. "That's awful. One of my brothers, Tim, is trans, and he's talked about that issue to me before. It sucks that's how people are."

"Ohh yeah." Wally sighed. "Which, by the way, I'm bi. Have I already said that?"

"Don't think so, but I'm bi too." 

"Awesome. We're bi buddies." He grinned. "That's pretty rad."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Rad?"

"Oh fuck, I'm starting to talk like Bart." Wally cringed. "At least I'm not saying 'totally tubular.'"

"I'm just saying... It'd be-"

"Don't say it."

He barely held back laughter. "-totally tubular if you did."

"I'm so glad we're not dating for real."

Dick burst out laughing at that, unable to hold it in any longer. "You should have seen your face."

"I actively try not to do that." Wally countered, shaking his head.

"Why?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Dick blushed. "Why try not to look at your face? You're pretty good looking, you know that, right?"

"I mean..."

"I'm just saying, you're pretty cute."

Wally shook his head. "Not really."

"Yes, really."

"Then what's so cute about me, then?" He said it like a challenge, eyes sparkling.  
"The way you get so passionate about what you care about." Dick said. "It's-"

"That's not physical though!" Wally interrupted.

"Shh, I wasn't finished. It shows all over your face when you're excited. Your eyes light up, you get this adorable lopsided grin... It's pretty cute." Dick explained, finding himself blushing along with Wally. "And when you blush, your freckles stand out totally differently than when you're not blushing. And the little way that your hair falls in your face..."

"Man, I need to bring you along when I try to talk to people." Wally have a little, nervous laugh. "You sure do know how to sell me. You're the best wingman, probably."  
"Nah," Dick shrugged. "You just need to be nicer to yourself."  
"I know, I'm just... Ugh. Trying to get over that."  
"And now you're being to hard on yourself for being so hard on yourself." He pointed out. "Seriously, is there any winning with you?"

"No." Wally grinned. "I mean, not when I'm sitting next to you."

Shifting how he sat, Dick turned a little more towards Wally still. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, your hair isn't so much curly as it's just... Fluffy. It looks super soft, opposed to how coarse my hair is." He started, running a hand through said hair. "And you have eyebrows-"

Dick laughed, but he kept on.  
"-like, real eyebrows. That's attractive in a person. And with your skin tone and hair color you'd be expecting like, deep brown eyes, right? Nope! You get smacked in the face by how dark blue your eyes are. It's crazy. And your nose doesn't look like it's been broken-"

"It has."  
"Shh, let me finish. I was being nice. Your lips are like, really pretty, too."

He blushed.

"They have a really nice shape, I guess? I doodle a lot, mostly on important documents, and I always like to notice things like that on people." Wally explained, shrugging a little bit. "You have like, a real adult jawline, too."

"And you don't?" Dick questioned.

He shook his head. "I mean, I've gotten a little bit, especially since starting T, but not really?"

"I think you have a nice jawline."  
Wally blushed. "Thanks... Is this our second fake date?"

"What?"

"Just telling each other how cute they are?" He chuckled. "It just seems kinda weird, when you put it like that."

Dick shook his head. "Not if that's just how the conversation goes."

"True, I guess..."

"Plus, we watched Star Trek, too."

"Yeah... Not sure if that's any better."

"And you bounce on your feet a little bit while you're standing." He added quickly, switching the topic back. "It's like an idle animation from a video game." 

Wally turned scarlet. "Your hands are really pretty, which makes the callous on them surprising, but also hot."

Speaking of Wally's hands... Could he bring it up? The scars? It really was something he had noticed about him, and not just because of the case file looming in the back of his mind.

Dick paused, taking a deep breath before deciding to just ask. "What's that on your hands?"

"What?"

"Did you split your knuckles open or something?"

Wally blushed, dark red. Slowly, he looked at the skin on the back of his hand, picking at it just a little bit. His eyes were dark, the bright green seeming duller than before.

"Believe it or not, looking like I do, being a trans guy in buttfuck nowhere Nebraska, I was bullied a lot. And one day I..." He swallowed. "I guess I had enough? I don't like hurting people, I don't want to hurt anyone, but-"

Dick, regretting everything that led up to that, grabbed one of Wally's hand across the couch. "I get it, it's alright. I was bullied too."

Relaxing a little bit at that, Wally pulled his hand away. "I'm sorry for you. No one should have to go through that."

"You got that right." He frowned. "Being a brown transfer student to the prestigious Gotham Academy won't get you in a very good spot."

"I can't even imagine."

"Yeah, so..."

"Yeah." He agreed. "Anyway..."

"You also always try to hide your face when you blush, and it's really cute." Dick blurted, changing the topic.

Wally did just that. "You have a little crinkle to the corner of your eyes, and it's honestly really adorable."

"You have this little tiny scar on your hairline, and it intrigues me every time I see it."  
Wally fell dead silent, he was still red, but it didn't look as much like blushing when he wasn't smiling to match it. "I... Wouldn't call that cute."

Dick shrugged. "Why not?"

"No, it's-" He took a deep breath in through his nose. "It's not cute."

"I'm sorry if I-"  
"No, it's fine!" Suddenly Wally was all smiles again, blushing up a storm. "Really, it's... It's all good. I guess I just don't think of it as being cute."

The scars on his knuckles, the broken nose, the scar, the missing teeth... Anger issues? Was it more than one occurrence of just 'snapping,' or did he get into fights? Was it not cute because he was angry?  
Or did it have something to do with the-

"No, I shouldn't have kept pressing it after you shut me down." Dick said, cutting off his own thoughts.

Wally shook his head. "No, you're good, you're good... Seriously, like... What's something we would need to know about each other for like... Long term relationship reasons?"

"Hmm..." Changing the topic. "How do you squeeze a tube of toothpaste?"

He cringed with his whole body, shoulders drawn upward, nose wrinkling. "I squeeze anywhere at first, then roll when it gets low."

Dick nodded. "At least you squeeze from the bottom when it gets low."

"Duh. That old be a waste of toothpaste." 

And with that, Dick was very ready to believe he would never figure out what the weird thing about Wally was without asking him directly, and that was so not about to happen. With how he reacted talking about the scar... It wasn't far off to believe that he wasn't about to talk about anything else. Except the knuckles, which he tore up in a school fight. Interesting. And the avoiding wastefulness was another hallmark trait of-

If he wanted them to be friends, he should probably stop this. It was getting a little bit out of control.

"What are... Oh, does the toilet paper roll go over, or under?" 

"Under, but-" Dick raised his hands in mock surrender. "Only because Bruce had a dog while I was growing up."

Wally narrowed his eyes, but nodded. "Yeah, I do it over, but I guess that makes sense. I never had pets growing up."

"That's sad."

"Eh, it's not so bad?" Wally shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't really responsible enough to take care of myself."

"Honestly? Same."

He grinned. "We're all just bad at taking care of ourselves... Actually, never mind, it seems like it's just me."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "You act like I'm good at it."

"Well, I mean... You always look so put together." 

"You've met me twice."

"Good point." Wally nodded. "Who knows, you might be just as bad of a mess as I am."

Dick resisted the urge to say something about how messy the apartment was. That would just be mean and, while this was fake, Wally was pretty cool. He wanted to be friends with him, when this was all over. 

"Anyway... Should we, like... I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Dick shrugged. "Another episode?"

"Sure, sounds great."

Dick sank back into the couch, trying his best to relax. Still, his heart was pounding, and his mouth was dry. Just sitting next to Wally like this...  
He was fucked. He was so royally fucked.

They didn't talk for the whole episode.

***

"Hey, Roy, I have a question for you," Dick adjusted how he was holding his phone, struggling to unlock his apartment door. "What the fuck?"

"That could mean a multitude of things, Dickie. What is it?"

He sighed, finally pushing open the door. "You knew what would happen when you suggested I go out with Wally."

"So you two hit it off? That's great." Roy was smiling, he could hear it in his voice. "I'm glad to hear it; he needs more friends."

"Yeah, he does. But Roy..."

"But Dick..." He mocked in a whiny, high pitched voice.

Dick sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he pushed his door shut. "You knew he was my type from the moment I asked you for someone, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, come on, Roy!" He relocked the door, shaking his head. "I'm so screwed."

"Why?" Roy snickered. "Because he's a cute ginger with issues talking about his past?"

"First of all, no. Second, Barbara doesn't have issues talking about her past!" 

"Yeah, right. And even if she didn't, that's one out of how many?" Roy pointed out. "Look, I don't care if you date him for real or not. I just want you both to be happy, and I think you'd be good for each other... Dating or friends."

"Why?"

"Why what, Dickie?"

"Why do you think we'll be good for each other?" He clarified, flopping down on his little couch.

"Hmm..." Roy let out a long breath. "I think it's because you're so honest, and you don't let people hide stuff from you. And he's loyal as fuck, and won't let you self-isolate."

"I don't..." Dick knew he was lying the moment the words started coming out of his mouth. "Self-isolate..."

He just laughed. "Yeah, sure you don't. So, I'm guessing you had your first fake date?"

"Nah, second."

"So?"

"...So what?"

"Tell me about your date, damn it! Lian's asleep, so I'm all ears."

Dick sighed. "I'm guessing you want to hear about the first one too, huh?"

"But of course."

"So, we met up at the coffee shop-"

"Ooh, it's like you forgot I set that up."

"Roy, you're just doing that because it's annoying, aren't you?" Dick pointed out. "If you want to hear about it..."

"Fine, fine." He conceded. "Go ahead, Dickie. No more interruptions."

"So we met up at the coffee shop and just kinda talked? We tried to tell each other the things we'd know if we had actually been dating for six months-"

"Six months?" Roy choked. "Fuck, Dickie, you've really outdone yourself this time."

"Shut up. So, I'm guessing you're not going to tell me anything about him because of the whole Bruce thing?" Dick asked. "Because, if you're volunteering information about him, I want to listen."

"Your daddy's the detective; I think you can figure it out yourself."

He sighed. "Thought so. Anyway, he's definitely cuter in real life than in the picture you sent me. Was that like, a school picture or something?"

"Work photo." Roy answered. "It's his ID, and coincidentally, the only picture I have of him that isn't super blurry or a very ugly face."

"Interesting..." He made a mental note of that. "But he is really cute, and very charming. We talked a little bit about family-"

"You did?" Roy sounded amazed; Dick could imagine how wide his eyes were. "Wow, he must really like you."

"I mean, it was all pretty vague..."

"How vague?"

"One story about a couple uncles and a cousin, and his he only has a little bit of family worth knowing... An Aunt Iris, an Uncle Barry, and their kid... I think his name was Bart? I think that was all. There were other names that were thrown around along with theirs, but they were pretty much to prove the point that his family had awful names."

"They really fucking do, though." Roy agreed. "Who names their kid Eobard?"

Eobard Thawne's parents, apparently, but he was not allowed to talk about that.

"No clue. So... Is that amount of talking about family surprising?"

"Not really, no." He said. "Go on."

"So we talked about family, politics briefly, favorite colors... He admitted that he used to wear yellow and red all the time which, come to think of it, reminds me of a certain someone..." Dick grinned as he trailed off.

"Hey," Roy sighed. "At least I wasn't a ginger back then. He was. And he's the pastiest kid I've ever seen."

"That is really true." Dick admitted. "He's so pale, it's kind of ridiculous... But, Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me one thing about him?"

"No can do, Dick." Roy sighed in mock pain. "I'm afraid I just can't do that."

"I need to know if he has a history of violence, Roy." Dick said plainly. "After how it's been with, well, you know who..."

He felt bad using that past relationship to lie, but not as bad as he would feel for not apprehending him if he really was the guy who beat Eobard Thawne to a bloody pulp.

"He won't hurt you." Roy answered, all the humor gone from his voice. "And I can say that with absolute surety. And if he did, he'd never forgive himself."

"...he's gone through some rough shit, hasn't he?"

"Look, Dick, I don't want to be in on this with you." Roy snapped. "You do it with everybody you meet. You try to detective your way into their personal lives, figuring out what their past was like, and... It's not healthy for either of you. So I'm not gonna answer that question, because if you're going to know the answer to that question, you're going to have to ask him yourself."

Dick sat in silence for a moment, only Roy's soft breath audible over the line. "I... I need to work on that. Thank you for pointing it out."

Except this time it was for a reason. 

"Hey, I'm here for you, Dickie. You know that." Roy got his jovial tone back. "So, that date...?"

"We were talking about preferences in the various things that matter, pineapple on pizza, which way to squeeze the toothpaste, all that. And he asked about Star Trek or Star Wars-"  
"So you had to tell him you've never seen the original Star Trek?"

"Yep."

Roy grinned; Dick couldn't see it, but he knew. "I did the same thing. Let me guess, you went over to his place as your 'second date' today?"

"When did you replace Bruce as the detective?"

Roy pretended to gag. "Don't ever insult me like that again."

"You know that he's not a bad guy, Roy." Dick reminded.

"Uh, yeah, but he still hates me."

"To be fair, you were kind of a delinquent when he first met you."

"Pfft. Nah I wasn't." Roy scoffed. "I wasn't too bad."  
"Roy, you were shooting heroin."

"...yeah, okay, that's not ideal."  
Dick snorted. "Understatement of the year award. But yeah... And he doesn't really hate you."

"Yeah, he totally does." 

"He only hated that we were dating."

"Sure..."

"Okay, okay." Dick sighed. "So today I went over to his place to watch Star Trek."

"And you had to practically wade through his apartment?" Roy guessed.

"No, it wasn't that bad."

"Wow." Roy paused. "He must really like you." 

"I'm guessing he doesn't normally clean up much?"

"He doesn't normally." Roy explained. "He'll go through patches where everything will be super organized and nice for like, three days, and then, as he says, 'The second law of thermodynamics runs its course.'"

"That's the one about increasing disorder, isn't it?" Dick guessed.  
"You bet it is." Roy confirmed. "He's pretty dorky."

"...would it be shameful to say that he's adorkable?"  
"Yeah. Yeah it would." Roy teased. "Well, did you talk, or just watch late sixties TV?"  
"We talked a little bit, but never really about anything in particular... It's weird. I don't know." Dick ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it's the fact that our relationship is fake, so it's not going anywhere. It would just be awkward to ask him about his goals for the future, or what he wants out of a relationship. And those aren't even second date material, anyway. What do you even talk to someone about on a date?"

"Why aren't they, though?" Roy asked. "Sure, it might be awkward, but aren't those questions always awkward? And if you're crushing on him you could discover something incompatible so that you can get over him."

"You're just full of dating advice, aren't you?"

"Fake dating advice." He shrugged. "But don't listen too much to the single dad who hasn't been on a date in like... Three months? Four months?"

"Yeah, that's true."

"Or you could admit how you feel-"

"No."

Roy laughed. "There's the Bruce in you! Fuck, man. It's crazy how similar you two are."

"That is not true. And besides, you don't even know anything about Bruce's love life." Dick paused, frowning. "I don't even know anything about Bruce's love life."

"You're telling me that he could be gettin' busy while we're making fun of him for being emotionally repressed?" Roy chuckled. "That would suck."

"Yeah, it would... And don't refer to Bruce 'getting busy' ever again."

"Okay, okay. But seriously... You should give him a chance."

"I really, really am." Dick admitted with a sigh, kicking his get up onto his coffee table. "But I also know that it's a fake relationships, so..."

And he might be guilty of a violent crime still under Dick's supervision, so...

"So you're not banking on it lasting much?" Roy guessed. "You know, you can be emotionally vulnerable with people you don't think you'll be with for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, I know that."

"Besides, if it doesn't work out, it'll just end up being like all of your other friends, these days." He pointed out. "Speaking of which, you can befriend people you haven't dated."

"Roy!"

"What?"

"That's not true, and you know it. I'm friends with plenty of people who aren't exes... and I'm not friends with plenty of my exes."

"I wouldn't say 'plenty.'" Roy argued. "For either." 

"I mean, I never dated Donna-"

"She's not into men, doesn't count." He interrupted. "And you would have dated her if you could have. You're crush on her was-"

Dick cut him off. "That's enough of that. Never dated Garth either, or Lilith, for that matter."

"That's two."

"There's more than that, and you know it." He rolled his eyes. "And there are definitely exes that I'm not friends with. Tiger and I aren't in contact, I don't even need to say his name-"

"Yeah, please don't."

"-And Kori and I weren't exactly friendly for a while, you know."

"But now you are."

"Okay you know what-"

Roy laughed. "I'm just messing with you, you know that."

"Of course I know that, I'm just..."

"Anxious about Wally?" He finished. "Don't be, he's probably just as worried."

Probably not.

"I really don't think he feels that way about me, Roy."

"Why not?"

Dick had to sit and think about that one for a moment. Was there anything that really made him think Wally didn't like him?

"I don't know, I just feel like it's something in the way he acts." He admitted. "It's like... I don't know how to describe it."

"Look, Dickie." Roy sighed. "Don't start shutting it off before it even starts." 

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Then why are you saying that he doesn't like you, when you yourself have no idea? Just give it a go. Keep up with the fake dates until the holiday party, and see what happens after that." He paused. "And he does get a little weird with Star Trek, you might have been picking up some of that."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I think he's the only person I know who'll want to go on a movie date... Then actually want to watch the movie."

"That... Makes a lot of sense." Dick nodded. "I wondered a little."

"What, a bunch of people running around on a spaceship didn't have your total attention?"

He rolled his eyes. "I could tell how much he liked it, and that made it worth it."

"Ooooh!" Roy snickered. "You've got it bad."

"Yeah, probably." Dick sighed. "I swear his whole body lights up."

"It's pretty cute, isn't it?"

"Really is..."

"Alright, Dickie, I should probably get going. Keep me posted, alright?"

"Alright."

"Bye, Dick."

"Night, Roy."

Dick set his phone down, sinking into the couch. His schedule was a little crazy right now, but... As soon as he could, he wanted to meet Wally again. Even just this much time apart made him miss him a little.

Roy was right; he was done for.

***

"Hey, Irene." Dick waved at her with his free hand, still sleepily setting the coffee machine with the other. "How's your morning, so far?"

"Shitty." She groaned, rubbing her eyes. "Someone remind me to never take morning shifts again."

"You know, I doubt our esteemed captain will agree to that."

"Fucking Kevin." Irene seethed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, sorry, Captain fucking Kevin."

Dick gave her a sympathetic smile. "Did you at least sleep well?"

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I was up late watching Star Trek with my partner."

Irene suddenly looked a whole lot less tired and a whole lot more interested. "Really? How are they doing?"

"He's doing great. A little tired, but isn't everyone? Even let me say a little more about him."

He could tell that Irene was enjoying this way too much... Just like he would if this was the reverse. "Man, can't wait to meet him, after you've talked about him all this time..."

Dick waved her off. "You will, you will."

"Good. Coffee's done, by the way."

"Oh! Yeah." He reached up into the cupboard and grabbed a mug. "But hey, at least patrols aren't as dangerous when you're on morning shift."

"Theoretically." Irene snorted, grabbing a mug of her own. "But this is Gotham."

"True."

"And it's just more boring." 

"What?"

"Patrol." She ruffled his hair. "Man, you really are tired, aren't you?"

"Ha ha, yeah..." Dick sipped his coffee, pretending that he hadn't burned his tongue. "Anyway, work to do."

"Yep, I'm not keeping you."

As he made his way back to his desks, thoughts raced through Dick's mind. He didn't know why he was so nervous about this whole thing, but... He definitely did not like lying. Sure, he had been lying to Irene about his 'partner' this whole time, but making his partner a real person? Somehow, that felt worse.

And Wally was nagging at his brain... Was Roy right? Should he just give him a chance at a real relationship like Roy was saying, or was that even more dishonest than he had been in the first place?Whatever it was, it didn't feel right. There was a hollow put in his stomach, weighing him down. 

Was it worse to enter a fake relationship with the hopes that it could become real, or to be in a fake relationship that could become real, and close himself off to it? The whole arguement in his head felt ridiculous, something that should never really even be considered.  
How about you shouldn't fake date people at all? Dick thought to himself. That would make this a hell of a lot easier, if he actually just had a boyfriend. But being in a real relationship, or if he had decided to just actually start dating Wally, would have been worse... Right?

Dick didn't know, and this whole this was making his head hurt with 'which lie was better' and 'which was worse' scenarios. He would pretend to date Wally until the holiday party, and then they would see where they went from there. That was pretty simple... Right?

He wished it was, that was for sure. Sipping at his coffee, Dick wished for what had to be the hundredth time that this could all be easy. Still, the same nagging problems kept pulling on him.

What if they couldn't keep up the fake dating until then? What if he wasn't who he said he was?

Mouth twisting into a frown, he tried to push away that thought, turning to his work. Still, it refused to be ignored. What if something happened? What if they started hating this, and it turned into hating each other? What if-

Stop with the 'what if's. Just get back to work.

Because 'what if it all turns out perfect' felt like too much to hope for. Nothing turns out just right in Gotham, and for himself even less so. Right now, all he could hope for was that it would be okay, and that try would still be friends when it was over.  
It was hard to admit, especially since this had only just begun, but he really, really didn't want it to be over.

Sighing, Dick tried to forget that crooked smile, the curly red hair falling in his face, the freckles all across his broken nose. It didn't work, but right now, he had other things he had to do.

Including scheduling an additional meeting with Eobard Thawne.


	3. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick manages to further convince Irene that his partner, Wally, is a real person... And manages to impossibly fall harder for him. Then they go on a surprise date to one of Wally's favorite places, talking about their pasts.
> 
> But still, something isn't adding up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing feedback! Seriously, you all have been so amazing.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Date after date kept passing by, and Dick couldn't stop falling harder and harder for Wally. It helped that neither of them were trying as hard as they would for a 'real date,' he thought; something about the casualness of it all was refreshing. Last weekend they just went to get frozen yogurt together. He hadn't done that since he was in high school.  
Saying that, of course, eventually got them talking about things they did as kids, which ended up landing them at the arcade, where Dick proceeded to whoop Wally's ass at almost every single game they played against each other. It was a good time, though, and they were both in stitches laughing by the time they walked back to Dick's car.

Still... It felt a little out of place. Normally, at that point, Dick would have gone for a kiss. They'd been dating for a couple of weeks now, seeing each other as often as they could to make up for lost time, and it just felt like the right thing for the moment. But, of course, he had to keep reminding himself that it was all fake. Still... It would be lying to say that he didn't have an album of photos on his phone of just the two of them. He hadn't taken any pictures the first couple of dates, since things still felt so awkward, but after that Wally had suggested the fact that it would be weird for a couple to not have any photos of each other. So Dick started taking pictures, especially when Wally wasn't aware of them. That was the best kind, and...

He had to admit: he scrolled through the pictures when he was on break. They came in sets, it seemed like, most of them following the same rough pattern. 

Two or three pictures would be taken at first, without Wally noticing, just completely relaxed. And sure, they didn't always show his best side, or the greatest angles, but Dick liked that. There was something real that wasn't there in other relationships he had been in, because he wasn't always caring so much. There was acne on his cheeks. His hair stuck up weird. The gap in his teeth looked awkward at certain angles. But all of those things, all together, made him human. They didn't take away from him at all.

It was ironic, in a lot of ways, that the most real relationship he had was one so based on faking it.

The pictures after those two or three, though, were usually blurry. Wally would move on purpose, or he would make a weird expression, or sometimes even just cover his face with his hand as soon as he noticed the phone. Part of Dick wanted to ask why, just to see what kind of answer he'd get.  
He knew that it'd be a self-loathing one; that was easy enough to tell. It reminded him of when Jason got his wisdom teeth removed, and the sides of his face were so swollen that he looked like a chipmunk. Not the pictures themselves, the way he tried to hide them.

But the good ones...

"Is that the partner himself?" Irene asked, nearly startling Dick out of his chair.

"Fucking hell, you scared me."

She laughed. "That's just how it is. Seriously, does the guy have a face?"

Dick took a moment to weigh out the pros and cons of showing her the picture. On one hand, what if she did know Wally? That would be weird. On the other... Why the hell not?

"Yep, that's my Wally." 

He held up his phone, displaying a picture he had taken at the frozen yogurt place. Wally looked adorable in that one, with his eyes barely open as he laughed. Freckles seemed to dance across his flushed cheeks. His curls hung down over his forehead, messy but absolutely adorable.

"You two would make a cute couple." Irene stated after a while, sounding almost disappointed. "Good for you."

"What is it?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Don't know what you're talking about."

"Disappointed that he's real?"

"I'd say surprised." Irene corrected, shifting her weight and taking a sip of her coffee. "You have to admit, I've had no reason to believe you."

Dick grinned. "Yeah, guess so."

"Wait a minute." He eyes narrowed. "Do you have a picture of the two of you together?"

Thankful that they had, in fact, gotten a couple selfies, Dick held one up to her. They were at the arcade, but even in the dim, multicolored lighting it was obvious that it was both of them. Wally had just won a game, one of the only he did, and had a big goofy grin on his face.

"Alright. Noted." 

"Disappointed?"

"Shut up, Grayson. Get back to work."

***

It was looking through those photos that Dick remembered another detail: Eobard Thawne was left-handed. He said, in more recent statements, that he had taken a swing at the man who assaulted him, hitting him square in the mouth.

And Wally's missing teeth were on his right.

***

Going down to the arcade had been Dick's idea, so today they were headed out to one of Wally's favorite places. Only, of course, Dick wasn't allowed to know where they were going until they got there, which meant wearing sunglasses so no one got suspicious about him closing his eyes as they walked down the Gotham streets.

"You know, I could be peeking."

"Shh." Wally shushed him, squeezing his hand. "I'm trusting you right now."

"So you trust me?"

"Shut up." He chuckled, running his thumb back and forth over the back of Dick's hand.

The truth really was that his eyes were shut tightly, as nervous as that made him.  
Even not watching him, Dick could tell that Wally was always moving. Rubbing him with his thumb, squeezing and twitching his hand, the feeling of him bouncing a little as he walked. It was adorable, and Dick couldn't help the little smile on his face. It helped to keep his thoughts off of other ideas he'd had about Wally floating around.

"Are we getting close?"

"Yep-o. It's not very far away, really." 

Dick laughed. "Says the runner."

"Okay, that's true. Seven miles isn't very far." Wally reasoned. "But that would be if we were running. Right now? Not very far is like... Two blocks at the most."

"At the most?"

"I'm not usually thinking about the distance when I'm walking." He explained, swinging his arm. "I'm usually daydreaming."

"About what?"

Wally shrugged; he could feel it in the arm movement. "A lot of stuff. Normal stuff, things at work, what I could work on if I was at Star Labs instead of the crime lab... You. Imaginary arguments."

Dick blushed, but pretended he wasn't. "Fake arguments with me?"

He shrugged again. "Sometimes."

"About what?"

"Ehh... It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to tell me." Dick may have said, but curiosity itched in his chest. "It's alright."

Wally shrugged yet again; he had never noticed how often he did that. "Sometimes I imagine us in weird arguments, even though I know you wouldn't say some of those things. Maybe it's just my way of working out that I'm frustrated, or paranoid... Is that weird?"

"Nah, I think everyone does it."

"Alright. Wait, do you do it with me?"

"Hell no." Dick scoffed.

"Why not?"

It was his turn to shrug. "We've never really argued about anything before, so I don't know how you'd even be if we fought... Other than the time we argued that you're cute."

He didn't need to be looking to know that he blushed. "Which I still maintain my stance on."

"Of course you do."

Wally laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're just as stubborn as I am."

"Then we had better not get into an argument."

"Yeah, we better not." Dick agreed, gently swinging his arm. "Close?"

"You'll know we're close when you can smell it."

He took in a big breath through his nose, always a mistake in Gotham. "I can certainly smell something. Are we going dumpster diving?"

Wally snorted, his answer obviously sarcastic. "Yeah, totally."

"Great, I love dumpster diving."

"Seriously, though." Wally's hand shifted. "Have you gone dumpster diving?"

"Of course. You?"

"No. I've dug through the trash, but I think that's different."

"Yeah... Dumpster trash is an entirely different monster."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you go dumpster diving?" Wally asked, rubbing his hand with his thumb. 

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because." Dick answered again, a smug grin settling on his lips.

"C'mon, Dick."

"Already told you." He shrugged. "Don't know what else you want."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Dick."

He shook his head, trying not to smile bigger. 

"Dickie."

"Nope." Dick swallowed, still holding back a laugh at the tone Walt had taken.

"Dickers."

"Dickers?"

Wally rolled his eyes; he didn't need to be able to see it to know. "Do you have any other nicknames?"

It was like the sun had hidden behind a cloud. Dick wanted to tell the truth, despite that, but... He swallowed, hard. Could he? His other friends knew it, but...

He might as well. "Robin."

"Robin?" Wally sounded surprised. "How did... Where did that one come from?"

"My mom. I was born on the first day of spring."

"Oh. That's sweet." He paused for a bit, just walking in silence. "I expected a weirder source, if I'm honest."

Dick smiled, trying to distract from the awkwardness. "Really? Like what?"

"I don't know, you know the song-"

"Rockin' Robin?"

"Yeah, maybe you danced to that as a kid? But in an embarrassing place?"

Dick laughed. "That's a good enough theory."

"Yeah?" Wally's hand moved a little bit, just a little squeeze. "I guess I have a weirder nickname, though."

"What is it?"

"So, it starts with my uncle- wait, we're almost there. Close enough to smell."

Stopping for a moment, Dick breathed in deep through his nose. Ever so slightly, then stronger when a cold gust of wind hit him-

"Italian food?"

"Pizza." Wally confirmed, starting them walking again. "This place is the best, though, believe me."

"Can I open my eyes now, then?"

"What, do you not trust me to lead you?"

Dick elbowed him a little. "I don't know, you seem kinda shifty."

"Kinda shifty?" Wally gave a fake offended gasp. "I'm really shifty. We were just about to go dumpster diving."

He laughed. "Maybe after dinner?"

"Good plan. What are we hoping to find?"

Dick took a long time pretending to think, tapping his finger against his lips. Wally's hand squirmed just a little bit, forever restless. What was the best-

"A hat." Dick answered quickly, nodding his head. "But no ordinary hat."

"Of course not." Wally probably rolled his eyes. "Nothing is ordinary with you."

"Really? You're the guy who thought I could pretend to be straight."

"That's different." He answered quickly. "Even if someone thought you were straight... You'd still be extraordinary, babe."

Dick laughed, then choked, having to stop and double over to cough.

"Are you okay? Do you need something? Should I... Should I get you some water? Heimlich? I'm technically trained, but-"

"Walls." Dick croaked, clearing his throat. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," He pointed out. "You sound terrible."

"I'm alright." 

"Too far?"

Dick stood up straight again, proud of himself for keeping his eyes shut. "What?"

"Did I go too far with the dating thing? Calling you babe?"

That was, truthfully, what made him seize up there. It was like everything was going fine with them pretending to be friends, but the moment Wally said something even close to affectionate... Never mind, that was pretty affectionate. The moment they seemed in love, his heart skipped a beat. 

This was going to be the death of him. As soon as things were real, as they became more than just a job...

"Nah, you're good." Dick shook his head, pretending that it was all alright. "Anyway, are we close enough for me to open my eyes?"

"They're still closed!?" Wally's mouth was probably hanging open. "I feel bad for not trusting you more. Yeah, you can look now."

"Fuck, it's bright."

"In Gotham, wearing sunglasses?" He snickered, grin as crooked as ever. "You really did have your eyes closed, I guess."

"Yeah, for the past fifteen minutes... Maybe a little longer than that?"

Wally pulled out his phone to check the time, then slid it back into his coat pocket. "Right on. You ready for this? The pizza here will blow your mind, even though it tends to take a little wait."

Dick nodded. "Hell yeah, let's go."

Now that he had his eyes open, he really had no reason to be holding Wally's hand, since that was just for leading him, but Dick reached for it anyway. Wally didn't seem to mind, or really reacting by holding it back and turning bright red. Part of him wished that he had cheated, and had his eyes open, if only to see the way Wally's cheeks and nose had turned red in the cold, even though they hadn't really been walking long. A knit hat barely held down his curls, serving the purpose of keeping his ears warm but also looking super cute.

Was that the hat he could have worn, back in November? If it was pulled forward more it could cover all his hair...

The pizza shop was a little family-owned place, boasting their New York style pizza. It honestly seemed a little bit like a front for some 'other business,' but Dick was willing to ignore that for now. Some of his favorite places had, sadly, turned out to just be cover operations. But pizza was only one dollar a slice... and yet Wally still said he spent way too much money here way too often. 

"I eat a lot." He explained with a shrug, tapping his fingers on the table. "Have we talked about that before?"

"Probably." Dick reached across the table and took his hand. "Your fingers are cold; did you not grab gloves?"

Wally turned bright red once more, just like he always did with physical touch. Touch starved?

"Yeah... I forgot."

"Here." He took Wally's hand in both of his, trying to warm them up with contact. "Are they numb?"

"Nope." Wally shook his head, hat sliding precariously. "Just the pins and needles feeling. I hate that. I hate the cold."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean... I grew up in Nebraska, and it gets cold in the winter, but not Gotham sleet cold."

"True, I guess... I grew up other places too, but I've been in Gotham so long that I'm pretty used to it."

"That makes sense." Wally nodded, absently starting to rub Dick's hands with his own, even though he's the one with the cold hand. "And the ice. I hate ice."

"Do you slip often?"

He gave an over-exaggerated nod that made Dick laugh louder than he should have in the tiny restaurant; he didn't feel too bad, since they mostly had the place to themselves. "I'm so clumsy, it's ridiculous. Plus, being a runner... Oh, that's where I was before."

"What?"

"When we were talking about nicknames, right before you choked." Wally reminded, still fiddling with Dick's fingers. "My Uncle, Barry, calls me Kid Flash, but it's a long story."

"Well, we've certainly have time right now."

"It's, well, it, I guess..." He took a deep breath, blinking a few times. "My uncle started it. Back in college he was the fastest guy in the long distance running team, right? Super fast - he ran a nine twenty-two two mile in high school! Anyway, so one night-"

"Don't tell me he went streaking."

Wally laughed. "You bet he did. No one saw it but the team, since it was at night and they dared him to do it and there were no security cameras because the college was shitty, but it still because famous - or infamous - very quickly. After that, people started calling him The Flash."

"And you got this nickname how?"

"Because I'm fast." He sat up a little straighter, a proud smile on his face. "Not the fastest, at least not then, but that didn't matter to Uncle Barry. He called me Kid Flash even when I was in middle school. He just, uh, didn't give me the story."

Dick snorted. "That's hilarious."  
"Yeah... Believe me when I say that I was shocked when I learned the story behind that one."

"Ohh yeah, I can imagine." He nodded. "And especially since you're so easygoing-"

"Was that a trace of sarcasm I picked up?"

"No." Dick winked to let him know that he was, in fact, joking. "You're just a little high strung."

Wally faked offense yet again. "Me? A little high strung? I'm a guitar string ready to snap. Oh, and now two of my cousins have the nickname. So I guess it's a family thing?"

"Do they know the origins?"

He shrugged. "I know Bart does. But Wallace? No clue."

"Wait, hold up." Dick held Wally's hands still. "There are two Wally's? I definitely missed that before."

"Yep. Only now I'm Wally and he's Wallace, since we met each other, so we can keep things straight. It just gets confusing since he's on the West side."

"So there are two Wally West's?"

"You betcha."

"Man, your family is even more messed up than I knew."

Wally laughed. "No kidding."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Nothing much. Oh, hey, pizza."

Dodging questions? Interesting. Wally spoke his mind, but sometimes that seemed to get the better of him, on occasion. Why did he say that? Was it just the normal 'my family is messed up' feeling most queer adults have, or something deeper?   
Was it a biological family, or a crime family? Sure, Wally really didn't seem like that type of guy, but he knew better than assume after this long in Gotham.

Whatever questions he had, they were not happening now. Hell, even if they had been dating for six months, like he had been lying, he would not know the answers to all of those questions. Though, with Wally's rambling tendencies...

"You know what we haven't talked about?"

"Hrrmp?" Wally answered with wide eyes and a mouth full of pizza.

"Weird, potentially embarrassing childhood stories." Dick answered himself, grinning. "I'm sure you have just as many as me."

"Probably more."

"I had dumb friends who did stupid shit with me."

"...fair. So we have different kinds!" Wally nodded, jamming another obscenely large bite of the, admittedly delicious, pizza in his mouth. "So... you go first."

"Shit, I didn't think about that part." He really hadn't; all that was on his mind was getting Wally to talk about his past. "Okay, where should I start..."

"Ooh, I know: dumpster diving."

Dick snorted. "Do you really want to know?"

"'Course. I'm all ears."

"Alright, so it started with Roy's idea that we would..."

***

But when Dick got back home to his apartment... Something had to be true with his suspicions. There were too many holes, too many odd bits in Wally's stories that he had told about his past. Every time it seemed to reach a point where he would abruptly end it with seemingly no reason, eyes darting back and forth, face turning red. Yeah, maybe that was because he was embarrassed, but to Dick, well... Something wasn't adding up right.

He always ended the stories one of three places: he went home, he got in trouble, or seemingly right in the middle of a sentence without so much explanation given, but it seemed like things in the situation could have potentially gotten illegal. 

Not once was a car accident or similar situation mentioned, which wasn't suspicious really, but Dick couldn't help but wonder what those scars were from, still. And with his last experience with dating weighing heavily on his mind, and the case file still a strong presence in his work life... It really seemed like they had to be sinister in nature. 

The fights that he always briefly mentioned, then drastically changed the topic. It was something in the way he picked at the skin on his knuckles, or glanced behind himself all the time as he was talking, even though they were holed away in a tiny shop in midtown Gotham. If he had moved recently, what did he have to be afraid of here?

Could it be gang activity?

Could Wally really be who he said he was?

He should trust Roy. He knew that he should; Roy had a good opinion of Wally. And he also told him to stop treating his relationships like undercover jobs. But isn't that what this was sort of? This fake dating?

The fake part stung in Dick's chest, fighting against the strong feelings he just had going. Wally really could be a great guy. He was funny. He made Dick laugh, and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. But was he getting blindsided by him just because he was so cute and scatterbrained? Was the person guilty of a violent crime he was tasked with investigating getting away with it because he talked passionately about science and sucked at arcade games?

Dick may not have been a detective, but he knew how to try to find someone, and the people connected to them, online. Wally may avoid most social media, but that didn't mean that he was immune to showing up there.

Searching his name came up with lots of results from Facebook, so he decided to start there. Most people's families have those, even if they don't, or had deleted their accounts. And Dick had a suspicion he knew what name to search for next to find family. Since their first date, he had heard all about some of Wally's other relatives: Uncle Barry, Bart, the ever-crazy Thaddeus and Eobard, but there was still one name left in the mix. He had listed it, so...

Dick decided to see where the search for Rudolph West would take him.

Immediately, he was able to narrow down the results of the search until he had three men who looked like they could be convincingly related to Wally. The first seemed off, though. Something wasn't right, and he was most likely too young, even though he couldn't find anywhere that said how old he was. The next seemed perfect, until...

The last page was obviously Wally's father, and that thought made him feel sick to the stomach. There weren't a whole lot of personal posts, mostly photos other people had taken, memories, and political information, but what there was...

Old family photos, cussing out his 'daughter' for thinking that 'she' is a boy. Calling 'her' an ungrateful child who chose to turn 'her' back on 'her' family and betray them. There wasn't a whole lot of that, but commenting on multiple of the photos was a woman who talked even worse.

Mary West. From what Dick could tell, she was his mother. And some of the stuff on her page... There were vile comments, but the actual posts themselves were tame. Lots of right wing politics and outdated information. Except for those comments, and the political shit, she just seemed like someone's normal, middle aged mom who posts memes and 'repost if you believe in miracles' crap.

Dick exited out of the tab. He wasn't sure what he expected to find, whether it was a completely normal home life with people talking about their 'poor, misguided son' or nothing at all, but this... It was weird how 'normal' it all was for what he had been expecting. The violence in their comments was disgusting, but none of it was actively violent. Nothing you could get in a lawsuit about, or that would really indicate a whole lot worse. But it was still- there was something that wasn't right. This was all wrong. The only thing these explained were that Wally wasn't lying about being from Blue Hills, Nebraska, at least.

Something had to explain him.

So he dug deeper. Other relatives, other people, trying to find more about him. Not many people really talked about him, though, and it was hard to Facebook stalk someone by name when they themselves didn't have an account. There were a few aunts and uncles, but beyond family photos tagging a deleted account? Nothing. Wally looked sad and tired in all the pictures, his smile the same one on the picture Roy sent him at first, not the goofy lopsided grin he knew and loved.

But that's where Dick found his Aunt Iris. He knew about her from what Wally had said, but seeing her page? It was like a breath of fresh air. Wally looked happy in her photos. He was actually smiling. There were all of the pictures that should be on a mother's Facebook page: science projects, honor roll awards, sports trophies - everything that wasn't on the other pages, no matter how far back he dug.

That was a shining review in itself; this woman didn't seem to have anything fishy with her... Though he may have to run her name through the system, just to be sure.

Dick was still struck by how he really needed to rethink himself. Just because he grew up in Gotham, where everyone was involved in some nasty shit or other, didn't mean Wally was. He could have been in a car accident where he cut his forehead and lost a couple teeth. He had already explained why his knuckles were scarred. It was that simple. Hell, he could have gotten mugged.

He was just a normal guy with an unfortunate but not unusual past. It didn't have to nearly fit in with his case.

Why couldn't he ever let anything be that simple? Everything, no matter what, he had to over complicate it. That's why all of his relationships had ended before: he got too absent, too focused on his work, and when his partner was justifiably upset, he overthought why that was and made a big deal of it. He made them a suspect instead of a friend.

And the one time he didn't, last time, was when he should have overthought it. He just didn't want to...

(Dick): Roy, you really do think Wally's a good guy, right?

(Roy): it's four am

(Roy): but yeah I mean... He's one of the best people I know

(Roy): why?

(Dick): You know why

(Roy): Getting paranoid again?

(Dick): just a little

(Roy): do you need to come over?

(Dick): I should be fine, it's just...

(Roy): You tried to search him, didn't you?

(Dick): No

(Roy): yes you did you filthy liar

(Roy): did he tell you something or did you just decide you needed to know everything about him?

(Dick): Things just didn't seem right

(Roy): You barely know him! Of course thigs don't seem right

(Dick): I kno

(Roy): just don't let him catch on

(Dick): any particular reason?

(Roy): I don't know, would you want someone dredging up your past???

(Dick): no

(Roy): exactly. Now goodnight, Dickie

(Dick): Night Roy

As he shut off his phone, thoughts swirled in Dick's head. Had he technically find anything wrong? No. Creepy? Yes. Was it probably a breach of privacy to try to find stuff out about Wally when he hadn't volunteered that information? Definitely. That was part of what ended his relationship with Kori. It was... A bad habit, to say the least.

But now they were only a week from the holiday party.

Just don't let him catch on to the fact he had searched him online and found his bigoted family members. Simple, right? 

Something still told him this wouldn't end well.


	4. Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything - the case, the fake dating, the holiday party, Dick's feelings - all comes to a head. Walls come down, and, well...
> 
> Maybe there are things that should have been left unsaid.
> 
> At least Roy's there when it all falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm screamig

Dick didn't go to sleep that night, which made morning shift at the police station all the more grueling. His coworkers, to their benefit, didn't say anything; they were used to him coming into work looking like he hadn't slept in days. That was one nice thing about his job, he supposed: everyone was just as tired as he was. 

But they were putting together a suspect photo line for the Eobard Thawne Assault/Attempted Murder case, and Wally's face was on it. 

Eobard probably would have known if it was his nephew. Dick had realized that early in the morning, right before his alarm went off. How he had overlooked that little fact and let himself get so worked up over the whole thing was beyond him. It seemed to silly, now that he thought about it really. Unless Eobard was directly trying to indirectly implicate Wally, it was very unlikely that he could be guilty.

They wouldn't bring Eobard in to look at the line up until tomorrow night, at least, which came with ups and downs. On the good side, it meant he had more time to go over the list, comb through their suspects, and generally perfect the whole thing. The bad side, though...

Anyone who knew Dick knew that patience wasn't his strong suit. He wouldn't describe himself as impulsive by any means, that was a trait Bruce had worked out of him well enough over the years, but he didn't like to wait for things to work out. Any time it came down to something like this, or a case he was involved with going to trial, or something else similar, he could never focus. 

At least, with this, he could work on it. 

Clicking through the photos, Dick first compared them to the physical description itself, even though he had already done that countless times. It was difficult, since it had been so vague, but they did all fit. Even Wally, whose face he had debated taking off, but elected to leave on. There was no harm done by having his face in a lineup, after all. Each of their noses were distinctly broken, they were all white, with thin faces and heights between five foot ten and six foot three.  
They were all, with the exception of three, known to be at the bar in question from time to time, and four of the others had even been thrown out once of twice for "rowdy behavior" or the like. Six had a history of violent crimes.

Wally wasn't involved in any of that, though. Hell, he didn't even drink.

The gang association had, eventually, been tossed aside. It didn't seem likely, so they scrapped that idea. Eobard was known by quite a few people to be confrontational. Not violent, but he certainly didn't shy away from an argument. This could easily just be a case of a drunken temper.

There were other things to check, of course, but that was more in depth. Taking a deep breath, and stretching his sore wrists, Dick began.

***

(Wally): what time do u get off work???

(Dick): Just did y?

(Wally): wanna go get smth to eat?

(Dick): Sounds great 

(Dick): Should I come pick you up?

(Wally): that'd b gr8

Dick set his phone on the seat of his car beside him, and turned the key in the ignition. He hadn't 'just' gotten off work; he had driven home, changed into civvies, then gone back out with plans to go to the gym, but hanging out with Wally sounded a whole lot better.   
Especially since part of going to the gym had been planning to take his exhausted mind off of that lineup. Why was it bothering him so much? Usually these things didn't get to him beyond a little bit of jitters, but this was ridiculous. 

"Oh well," Dick rolled his eyes, backing out of the apartment complex's parking lot and pulling into the street.

The way to Wally's apartment building had become very familiar at this point, really no more that muscle memory as he went. The early evening light, and rare lack of rain, were both good omens in his book. For it to be light out at six thirty on December ninth in Gotham really did take a miracle, and good weather in this city was always a bonus.

Even if, in Bruce's opinion, that just made it colder. The sunshine was nice, no matter what he said.

Before long, Dick was parked outside Wally's building, jogging all the way up the stairs. If the weather was colder, that had certainly warmed him right up; Dick's face was red by the time he reached Wally's door, he was sure. This time, though, there was no hesitation. 

And Wally opened the door almost as soon as he knocked, wrapping him up in a quick hug. 

"Wow, Dick, that was fast. Hold on, let me get my shoes on..." He tugged on his worn-put pair of running shoes, then popped out the door. "So... What do you want to eat?"

Dick shrugged.

"Damn it, I hoped you would have an idea, because executive dysfunction has been kicking my ass for like, an hour now because I have no clue where to start, only that I need to eat."

"I mean... We could just stay in and get takeout?" He suggested. "That's probably what I want going to do before you texted."

"What kind?"

"Well..." Dick yawned; wen had he gotten tired? "We did pizza yesterday, so... Chinese?"

"Sounds like an awesome plan to me. Let me just let us back in." Wally struggled with his keys in the lock for a moment, before finally getting them inside. "Alright, do you want to call, or should I?"

Dick shrugged off his coat. "I will, since I know for a fact you don't want to."

"...I just don't like talking on the phone."

Dick laughed. "That's not what Roy's told me."

"What does Roy tell you?" Wally turned scarlet. "And correction, apparently: I don't like talking to people I don't know on the phone. But like... Who does?"

"My friend Garth used to joke about becoming a phone-sex operator, and we all wondered if he was actually serious."

He turned even more red than before. "Did he have the voice for it?"

Dick shrugged. "I guess. I mean, he's nice enough to listen to."

"Weird." Wally stopped. "What were we just about to do?"

"Call for takeout?"

"Right. Can you do that?"

"Yep, on it..." Dick whipped out his phone. "Got Panda Express's number practically on speed dial."

Wally snorted. "Didn't you say you can cook?"

"I can," Dick clarified as the phone rang. "But I'm busy. Hello, I'd like to make an order for..."

***

An hour later, both of them lounging on Wally's couch, stuffed with orange chicken and lukewarm chow mein, Dick's phone rang. For a second he debated not answering it out of spite; after all, they had interrupted him and Wally almost cuddling together, talking about ideal pets, but responsibility had gotten the better of him. 

A good thing, too, since it was Irene. She never called unless she had to, and always from the station or her cruiser.

"It's work, I need to take this." Dick explained, sitting up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Dick, this is Irene."

"Yep, what is it?"

"There was a scheduling error at the station." She explained. "Nothing major, but Thawne is here for the paper lineup. Just wanted to know if you had that prepared."

"Should be on my desk." 

"Alright, do I have the go, then?"

"Go on ahead." Dick nodded. "If it's not on my desk, the file will be easy enough to find on the computer."

"Alright. Thanks, Dick."

"See you tomorrow, Irene."

Dick hung up, sliding his phone back into his pocket and slouching back into the couch.

"What was that?" Wally asked, going back to running his shaky fingers through Dick's hair. "If you can tell me, of course. I know you have some stuff you probably can't talk about."

"Just a scheduling problem." Dick explained, leaning his head into the touch. "Someone came in on the wrong day for an identification lineup. It's all fine, though."

"That's good." He kept carding his fingers through, scratching at Dick's scalp. "I don't think I would mind a cat or a dog really, now that I think about it."

"Yeah... I mean, there are certainly ups and downs to both."

"Don't think I would ever get a small dog, though." Wally shook his head. "Even if they're funny looking."

Dick laughed. "Not all of them are."

"Yeah, but think about it." Wally stopped touching his hair and laid a surprisingly still hand on his shoulder. "Italian greyhounds. Chihuahuas. Pugs. They're all weird looking, tiny dogs."

"That's literally three breeds. Not a scientific study by any means."

"True, but like... I'd want a dog I could run with, you know?" Wally smiled to himself. "I used to run with neighbors dogs for extra cash. Loved it. There was this one guy with an Australian Shepherd - hold on, let me look up a picture of one for you."

Wally moved as little as possible, pulling out his phone and looking up the dog breed. They really were adorable, from the pictures he showed Dick.

"They have so much energy." Wally explained. "Perfect trail running dog, because they're small enough to be in control of, but big enough that they're not, you know..."

"In danger of being stepped on?" Dick guessed.

He snorted. "I wasn't going to say it like that, but... Yeah."

"No, I get it. Small dogs are a little difficult in that way."

Wally nodded. "I mean, if I was with someone who wanted one I would live with a small dog, but I don't think I would get one for myself."

"Yeah... Probably same. I mean, I don't have the room for a big dog, but-"

"I mean, me neither." 

Dick snorted, looking around at the wreck of an apartment surrounding the two of them. "Yeah... But at least you would take a dog running, though. I would try, but in the winter..."

"Running in Gotham in the winter is the worst." Wally agreed. "Especially with the ice."

"You know, they do make things for running on the ice, Walls."

"Yeah, I know, I know..." He went back to playing with Dick's hair. "But I always think the same thing: oh, I don't need those. And every year. Without fail. I fall. Large scale wipeout every time. You should have seen the bruises on my ass once... It was crazy."

Dick chuckled. "You should probably be more careful."

"Yeah, probably..." He sighed. "I've never been very careful with myself before, why should I start now?"

Wally grinned, and Dick elbowed him. "Because there are people who care about you, idiot."

"There are?"

He elbowed him again. "Yeah, you big goof."

"Hey... Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you..." Wally swallowed, taking in a deep breath. "Do you think we would do well as a couple?"

"For real?"

"For real."

Was this happening? Dick couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was it, what he'd been wanting to ask, then not ask, then getting too nervous to say a thing about, then-

Wally's phone rang.

"We just keep getting interrupted, don't we?" He chuckled, fishing out his phone. "Why is the- Hello?"

Wally's face got more and more confused the longer he was on the line. "For what? I got that part, I meant, can I know for what crime?"

Dick blinked. What was going on?

"Alright... I can make it at that time. Thank you. Goodbye." He hung up, still perplexed. "Police lineup? Same one you were working on?"

He wanted to say no, he should have said no, but he didn't. "Yes, probably."

"You can't tell me for what, can you?"

Dick took a breath. "You match the physical description of the perpetrator in an assault case, about a month ago."

"A month ago?"

He nodded.

"Let me guess: I also have connections to the victim." Wally spat, sitting up straighter on the couch. "I know about it; Uncle Eobard hasn't shut up."

"It doesn't mean they think you're guilty, Walls." Dick reassured them. "They just want you for the lineup."

He waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm not mad at you, just... Wait."

"What is it?"

"Okay, body language and stuff like that aren't my forte," Wally admitted, squinting at Dick. "But you're literally squirming. What's going on?"

Dick could feel himself pale. Technically, he never did anything wrong, but... He didn't like to lie. Between the thing with the holiday party to this covert investigation thing, he was getting antsy. 

"When I first met you, I did notice that you fit the physical description." He explained, keeping his tone even. "Then, with some other things-"

"Like what?"

"The scar on your forehead, the crooked nose, the missing teeth, the split knuckles... I didn't think that you were a violent guy, but I couldn't be too careful."

"Right." Wally didn't sound convinced. "Go on."

"And you mentioned Eobard when going through your family members, specifically talking about the 'bad' side of your family..." Dick blinked, trying not to put this together so neatly, but struggling with the evidence. "And you mentioned, specifically, that things between your uncles may have come to blows before."

"I didn't do it."

"And I believe you." But did he?

Wally swallowed, tears welling up in his eyes despite his obvious attempts to fight them back. "You said that was the first time we met."

"Yeah?"

"And you've been..." He waved his hand in the air. "Investigating me, since?"

"No, Walls, I-"

"Tell me how you haven't, then, because it sounds like you've got me into being your suspect pretty damn well."

Dick swallowed. "I realized that you couldn't have been the one, of at least that you most likely weren't, since your uncle would have recognized you. Either that, or he was deliberately trying to frame you."

"That seems just as likely as anything, after what happened." Wally rolled his eyes. "I wasn't joking that my family was nuts. It gets..."

"What is it?"

He clamped his mouth shut. "And now I don't know if I should tell you, because apparently it could be circumstantial evidence as to why I'm guilty."

"Wally, I'm not-"

"I lost the teeth when I was sixteen." 

Dick sighed. "I really don't think it was you, Wally, I-"

"Really? Do you really?" Wally kept blinking back tears. "That's when I broke my nose, too. And the scar on my forehead that I thought you were being cute by pointing out, but really you were just trying to figure out what it was from."

"Wally-"

"No. No I'm so fucking done." Tears had spilled over onto his cheeks, bet he kept wiping them away. "I finally thought that maybe, just maybe, this could work out. At first I was scared, 'cause you seemed way out of my league, but now?"

He set his jaw in place, sitting up straighter, and stiller, than Dick had ever seen him. It was almost frightening, looking at him like that, thinking about the crime he had blamed on him for so long... If Dick had seen a display of cold anger like this before, he would have immediately made him prime suspect. But now? All it did was bore a hole in his heart, ripping him in two.

Now he knew what it was like to argue with Wally, and he wanted to go back to his ignorance.

Wally's voice broke. "This whole thing was even more fake than I thought."

"Wally, it seriously wasn't like that."

"How was it not like that?" He choked. "This whole time, you've suspected me of- of attempted murder! This is-" 

Stopping, he took a deep breath. He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose on it before slowly standing up.

"Just go, Dick."

"Wait, we can-"

"No." Wally shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dick. But I can't trust you anymore. I want to. I really do."

"Are you sure we can't..." Dick started, but knew the moment ha opened his mouth that I shouldn't have said a word. "I'm sorry."

"Do you really realize what you did?" 

He winced. "Yeah."

He knew that he had gone on dates with, learned to get along with, befriended, and eventually realized he would have dated someone he, until recently, considered a suspect. They had gotten pretty close, in his book. Things were easy between them, and he-

"You accused me of attempted murder." Wally stated plainly, still standing, still as could be. "Do you want to know what happened to my face?"

He did, but that wasn't a thing he could say. Not now. Not when Wally seemed to be breaking like this. He couldn't say a word.

"It doesn't matter, Walls."

"I told someone at school I was trans. She didn't realize what heavy material that was, and she..." Wally swallowed. "It didn't get back to my family immediately, but the school sure did latch on to it. Next thing I know I'm getting in trouble for being in fights I didn't start. I guess that's not my face, that's my knuckles."

He picked at the scarring there, just a little bit. Dick could tell the scars wouldn't be as bad if he hadn't picked at them, but he obviously had for a long time. Instead, he tore at the skin like that could make the scarring go away.

"My face happened when I got into a fight, this time bad enough that the principal had to figure out what was going on. The other guy... He told him I was transgender. And the principal called my parents, and-" Wally shook his head. "Can you guess the rest, officer?"

The word 'officer' hit Dick like he had been shot.

He pointed to the scar at his hairline. "Beer bottle. Missing teeth and broken nose? Fists. Is that enough for you?"

Dick couldn't meet his eyes. Not with how Wally spat every word.

"Go home, Dick. Maybe I'll see you at the station, but I hope you can find someone else to be your fake date."

Numb, Dick stood up from the couch. He didn't feel a thing as he walked toward the door, as he pulled his coat back on, as he slipped out the door without another word. He chose the elevator instead of the stairs, because he didn't trust himself not to trip. Waiting was no problem, this time. Dick wondered how he had been so impatient before. There was all the time in the world.

It felt like it should have been raining outside, but it wasn't. The skies were still clear, a crisp kind of cold that only happened when there weren't enough clouds in the sky to hold in the warmth. 

Bruce was right. This was the coldest he'd ever felt.

It felt like his car shouldn't have been able to start, or he should have lost his keys, but they were right in his pocket where he left them. The car started up just fine. The traffic wasn't even bad, really, which was a relief. He was already having a hard enough time seeing the road through his tears.

Maybe a part of him expected Wally to show up at his apartment, but he never came. Three in the morning rolled around, with Dick slumped on his couch, watching bad reality TV, and replacing every redhead with him. There weren't many, which was a relief. He wasn't sure how much his heart could take.

And of course, just like it had back at Wally's, his phone had to ring. This time, though, he didn't answer it.

Silence, for a moment, then they called again. He still didn't pick up.

And again.

Finally, on the fourth call, Dick pulled his phone from his pocket. It was Roy, of course it was Roy. Wally probably called him to tell him what happened, and...

He answered. "Hey, Roy."

Roy sighed. "Hey, Dick... You already know, don't you?"

"Wally called you?"

"Heartbroken." He said, confirming. "I got his side of the story, just wanted to know if you agreed with it." 

Dick sunk down into his couch, wishing the slightly deflated cushions could truly make him disappear from the world. "No, he's probably right."

"Then tell me what happened."

"Roy, I really don't-"

His sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I... May have suspected Wally in a case I'm working on."

Roy took a deep breath. "I thought that was what I understood, but Wally talks really fast, and I hoped I hadn't. So, tell me why?"

"He fit the, albeit vague, physical description." Dick started to explain, each word feeling like another nail in his metaphorical coffin. "Then we suspected gang activity, and he talked about his 'family' being split into two sides. Which, working in Gotham-"

"Yeah, that does sound suspicious if you don't know him."

"I knew that I wasn't just being paranoid." He took another breath. "And he talked about an uncle, who I later learned was actually the victim in this case. And, of course, that uncle is on the 'other side' of the family."

"Mm... That actually makes sense, too."

"And... This is where it got really offensive to him, but I didn't know, and-"

"Come on, Dickie." Roy shushed him a little bit. "Just say it."

"The scarred knuckles, broken nose, missing teeth, and scar on his forehead weren't exactly going for him."

A long pause on the air came before Roy finally blew out a breath. "Yikes."

"Yikes? That's all you can say?"

"That's a whole lot of circumstance." He pointed out. "How bad was the crime?"

"Debating between attempted murder and assault."

Roy whistled. "That's bad."

"That's bad? Roy, how do you-" Dick had to take a deep breath. "I really fell for him, Roy."

"...you did?"

"Yeah." He choked, shaking his head. "Before he got the call, about the police lineup, he... He asked if we wanted to date for real."

"Shit, Dick."

"This is a whole lot more than just my fake date falling apart. I... I've only known Wally for a month, but I know that I don't want to let him slip away."

Roy took a deep breath. "So... Do you want the good news, or the bad news?"

"Good news first." Dick decided. "I could do with learning something good."

"I'll talk to him." He offered. "See if I can work it out so you can talk."

"Thank you."

"Bad news?"

"Yeah." Dick nodded. "Give me the bad news."

"Once Wally's angry, he doesn't let that go. He holds a grudge worse than you do."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Figures. It serves me right, though."

"Honestly, do you want to know what I think?" Roy asked, sounding more than a little tired but clearly not of the conversation.

"Yeah, why not?"

"That was a dick move."

Dick winced. "Yeah."

"But, knowing you and how fucking paranoid you get-"

"Hey!"

"-I'm surprised it wasn't worse."

Dick sighed, rubbing his temples. "What's that supposed to mean, Roy?"

"I mean, you talked to him with the intention of figuring out whether or not he was a suspect, and you thought he could have tried to kill someone, but you didn't... Search his apartment, or lie about what your job was, or follow him to make sure he's not doing anything crazy."

"I'm not sure how I should feel." He admitted. "It was all just so..."

"Perfect?"

"Yeah. It was so fucking perfect, and... I fucked it up."

"For the record..." Roy trailed off. "Wally was the one who described what you had as perfect first."

Tears threatened Dick's eyes. "He did?"

"Yeah. I have no idea where the hell you got the idea he didn't feel that way towards you for so long, but... He fell for you. Hard."

He choked.

Roy swallowed. "Which could make things easier, or harder. I don't know which way it'll go, and I won't know until I talk to him."

"Thank you, Roy."

"Get some sleep, Dick."

When he hung up, Dick really didn't think he would be able to sleep, but his body was heavy almost instantly. He closed his eyes, and when he dreamed he saw redheads with lopsided grins in dimly lit alleyways, bursting into tears.


	5. Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with how things are between Dick and Wally, the Holiday Party is still fast approaching... And Dick can't just leave things how they are.
> 
> Make it right and move on... Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's followed this! You're amazing <3

Dick called in sick the day of the actual lineup. One of the men, the one Thawne identified out of the list the first time, was positively identified as the assailant a second time, and that was that. The man ended up confessing, Irene filed the reports and passed it on to the higher ups, then it was all over. This one, small case, that had destroyed a possible relationship so thoroughly. Over just like that, probably not even to be sent to trial.

He wasn't even there to see it, because he couldn't bear to look at Wally's face in that lineup, knowing he had fucked up so badly.

Roy talked to him, but couldn't tell Dick anything positive about the conversation. That hurt more than anything else: going from talking all the time, to never saying a word to each other, or having to talk through Roy. Still he kept sorting through the pictures on his phone, the ones Wally made purposefully blurry by moving, the surprisingly still ones, the goofy laughter at the arcade, and at the frozen yogurt place, and the pizza shop...

"Hey, Dick. You know that we're on lunch break, right?" Irene's voice materialized behind him, ruffling his hair. "Or are you working on something that important?"

"Nah, I'm just... Not hungry." He told her, opening a report to start writing on his computer. "You go on ahead."

"If you don't mind me asking..." She trailed off, and Dick knew the question before she ever asked it. "Did you two... Break up?"

Dick sighed. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, how you've been acting is a pretty clear indicator." Irene pointed out. "And while it could have been coincidence, you called in sick when he was coming in for the lineup. Which, by the way, was weird. I didn't say anything to him about it, but..."

"Yeah, we broke up."

"And I'm guessing he broke up with you?"

"Alright, Irene." Dick squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers into his temples. "Is this payback for when you and your boyfriend broke up?"

"You bet it is." She smiled, but it faded off after a moment. "That sucks, though."

"Yeah."

"Are you actually just going to work though your lunch break?"

"Pretty much."

"Okay." She rumpled his hair again. "Just... Take care of yourself, Dick."

"Yeah."

He could see the look she gave him, like she wasn't going to say anything else, but she was definitely going to keep an eye on him. He was fine, really. And he didn't want her to worry.

"You know, Irene," Dick started, trying to keep his voice even. "You could possibly have been right."

"About what?"

"I mean, my boyfriend and I did break up mere days before the holiday party."

Irene looked conflicted between the worry of before, and the joy of being right. "Really, now?"

"And I did avoid seeing him in person, possibly because I couldn't back up the fact that we're in a relationship."

"That is also true."

"Anyway, I'm going to finish this." Dick turned back to his computer, typing as she walked away.

How could he keep dealing with this?

***

The holiday party started at six. 

Dick knew that, and he knew that he had to be there, he promised he would be, but honestly? Right now it was four thirty and he hadn't even made the effort to think about what he would wear. Back when he was going to go with Wally he toyed with the idea of matching bow ties, just to be cheesy, but...

Wally. His name stung his heart. He didn't want it to, but looking through the pictures just made it hurt worse, knowing that he thought the he was an asshole. Of course, he...

He couldn't wallow in this forever. He was acting like Bruce whenever something bad happened, when he would insist that it was his fault. Well, it was his fault. So what would he say to Bruce if he was in this situation? Make it right and move on.

Make it right and move on.

Dick picked up his phone, flipped his contacts all the way down to 'w,' and called.

No one answered. Surprise, surprise.

"Hey, this is Wally West, I'm probably at the lab. Call again, or leave a message after the beep!"

The beep went off, and Dick took a deep breath. Hearing Wally's cheerful, flamboyant voice was more jarring than he thought it would be. Still, though...

Make it right, and move on.

"Hey, Wally, this is, uh... This is Dick. I know you probably don't want to hear anything from me... And that's justified... But I wanted to apologize." He swallowed. "I can't make any excuses: I did have you as a suspect. But that's not why I talked to you. I..." 

Dick took another breath, letting it out in a sigh. He just had to tell the truth. That was all he could do.

"When I first met you, I had just come off work, pretty much. I was working a case with a description similar to you, yes, but I didn't immediately suspect you. And I didn't want to, because..." He shook his head. "My biggest fear wasn't that you were an attempted murderer. I'm paranoid, all the time. It's a big problem. Yeah, I thought you could be, but it wasn't something I really did believe you were."

Another breath: inhale, exhale. "I was afraid you hadn't fallen for me like I fell for you. Even though our relationship was fake, and we were just pretending the whole time... You always felt so genuine. Things were easy around you; it didn't feel like fake dating. It felt like dating a guy I didn't need to fake stuff for."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "And I'm sorry I let all of my bullshit get in the way of that as soon as we realized what we could have. You deserved better than that."

Click.

Dick hadn't meant to hang up there. He had more prepared, things he planned to say as he was driving home from work, as he was making himself a late lunch since he hadn't eaten at the station. But that's just where things ended, and he supposed that had to be okay. 

Alright. He tried to make things right, and now for the hard part.

But Dick couldn't bring himself to delete all of those pictures from his phone. Not yet. Maybe after the holiday party, but...  
The holiday party. He would need to leave in less than an hour, since he just had that phone call and it took about a half an hour to get to the station in six o'clock traffic. 

Dick peeled himself off the couch and headed towards his closet. He could deal with Wally later, after he explained to all of his coworkers that they broke up. Right now, he just needed to get dressed.

***

And of course, nothing felt right. Dick swore his trademark fashion sense had abandoned him, and that it would never be seen again. Nothing seemed right, or good, or... He sighed, tossing another couple of shirts down onto his bed. Yes, they were options, but...

He rolled his eyes, finally just pulling out his phone and taking a picture.

(Dick): Which one should I wear?

(Babs): Dick Grayson? Coming to me for fashion advice?

(Babs): Who are you and what have you done to my ex?

(Dick): seriously

(Babs): The dark blue one looks nice on you, brings out our eyes

Which, of course, reminded Dick of how Wally described it: that you expected him to have brown eyes, but then they were blue. Surprisingly blue? Shockingly blue? He couldn't remember how he had said it, but he knew that he just wanted to hear it again. He just wanted to hear Wally's voice again, really. Listening to the voicemail had only made it worse.

(Dick): With the pants with the little white polka dots?

(Babs): There's your fashion sense

(Dick): thanks Babs

(Babs): See you at the party

(Dick): See ya

He tossed his phone into the bed, and put away the other shirts... But, of course, the blue shirt needed to be ironed. The only shirt that was wrinkly. What are the odds? Then he couldn't find the pants, and before he knew it it was five thirty and he was trying to find his car keys. They ended up being in his coat pocket already - which he was wearing - even though he swore he had checked there.

Apparently nothing could go right today.

By the time Dick was getting into his car and pulling out onto the road, it was closer to five forty. 

Then there was an accident further down the road.

Minutes ticked by until it was six o'clock and Barbara was calling him to ask where he was and Irene was texting, asking him if he was okay. He was just starting to think that it was just fate that he would never arrive at the holiday party when people started moving. Finally.

But what would he say to people?

Dick had lied to all of his coworkers but Bruce about this partner of his, this boyfriend. Sure, Irene was the most invested one, but that by no means meant she was the only one he lied to. Would he tell them it was fake? Could he admit that? Or would he just say they broke up? 

Which, technically, was true. Wally had asked him out right before that phone call, then that most certainly ended as quickly as it began when he realized he had been low-key investigating him...

Should he even go?

But when he started asking that question it was getting close to six thirty, and he was already sitting in the parking lot, his car in park.

"Better late than never," Dick muttered to himself, climbing out of the car to face the music. 

It didn't matter what he said, it would basically be a lie any way he spun it. But, as it was... He was okay with Irene being the only one knowing it was totally faked. He could tell everyone else they were broken up. That would be fine. He could do it.

Filling himself with false confidence, fixing how his shirt was tucked in and adjusting his collar, Dick approached the doors to the station. The main room he had already seen earlier in the day; it was totally made over to make it a more party-friendly space. A few streamers hung from the ceilings, clusters of balloons, differently placed tables... With the lights dimmed a little bit like this, it almost didn't seem like the same place.

"Dick! You finally made it." Irene came up to him, elbowing his arm. "Was worried you wouldn't show."

"Nah, I just got caught in traffic."

"Well, I'm glad you showed up." She grinned. "Guess who came?"

"Who?"

Irene rolled her eyes. "Come on, guess." 

"The Commissioner?"

She shook her head.

"That was my only guess. Kevin?"

"That's Captain Kevin, to you." She rolled her eyes. "And no. I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?"

Dick sighed. "I guess."

"And go find Barbara, she thought you were dead."

"She did not."

Irene elbowed him again, pointing him in the direction of Babs.

"Hey, Dick. You survived!"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I did."

"And now that you're here..." She smiled, the kind of look that he recognized as her being about to ask him something questionable at best, scheming at worst.

"What is it?"

"Nothing big. Can you go get me some punch, though?"

Dick shrugged. "Sure."

That wasn't right. He knew, from the glint in her eyes behind her glasses to the devious smirk on her perfect red lips. He had known Barbara Gordon long enough to be able to tell when she was planning something, and-

Someone he didn't immediately recognize was standing at the punch bowl. He was tall and thin, wearing a slightly too short pair of dark grey slacks and a light blue button down. His hair was-

Dick knew the moment he saw the hair. Short on the sides and in the back, topped with a mess of bright red curls. But no, it couldn't be...

...until he looked down and saw his beat up running shoes with his apartment key tied around the laces. 

Wally West turned around, and they locked eyes. Neither of them said a word, they just stood there, staring at each other. Dick may have prepared himself for talking about Wally, but not for seeing him. His eyes were too green, the freckles across her cheeks were like constellations. It was like his heart went into overdrive at the sight of him.

"I was worried you would come." Wally confessed, his voice soft enough Dick could barely hear.

"I... I didn't think you'd come at all."

"I wasn't going to." He added quickly, eyes hardening for a moment, then letting out a deep sigh. "But... I got your voicemail."

Dick turned bright red. "Yeah..."

"And I talked to Roy about it." Wally swallowed. "And I decided... Maybe, without all the fake stuff, and the secrets... We could work out?"

"I... I would love that."

"And I'm sorry for, like... Not listening to you." He blurted, sucking in a deep breath. "When you were trying to explain, in my apartment."

"Wally, you had just learned that you were a suspect in an investigation your fake boyfriend was leading. I think your reaction was pretty justified."

Wally burst out laughing, setting down his cup of punch on the table and almost doubling over. His laugh was everything Dick wanted it to be, everything he wanted to hear; it was high pitched and giggly, with little snorts at the ends and the occasional time his voice would break altogether. He himself couldn't help himself from laughing with him, from wishing that he would stop being a coward and just take a picture of the look on Wally's face. Pure happiness. He could look at that forever.

Only... He just asked him out. He could hear that laugh all the damn time, practically. He swore it would never be enough.

"What?" He finally asked, pulling himself together. "What's so funny?"  
"It makes us sound like a TV show or something when you say it like that." Wally explained. "With the investigations and the fake dating and everything..."  
"To be fair, we actually were fake dating."  
"I know, isn't that crazy?" He laughed again, shaking his head. "But, now... I'll try it out if you want to."

"Hell yeah I want to." Dick smiled. "Do you even need to ask? I think I was done for the moment you introduced yourself when I already knew your name."

Wally turned bright red. "Yeah... That definitely happened."  
"You're adorable." 

"No, I- thank you." He nodded. "I'm accepting that. Because I'm going to try to trust you."

Dick elbowed him a little. "Alright, alright..."

"I mean..."

"It wasn't like you were our prime suspect." He added. "You weren't even close."

"Okay, now that would have been nice to know." Wally rolled his eyes. "Speaking of which... You have one more thing to apologize for."

Dick's eyes narrowed; Wally was grinning wide like this was going to be a joke. "What is it?"  
"Your lineup made me have to go to police station. With my crazy uncle who tried to kidnap my cousin like, three times when he was a kid."  
"Wait, what?" Dick's eyebrows shot up. "He did what?"

"We dealt with it in the family," Wally explained. "But yeah, my cousin Bart has a reatraining order against him because he's kinda fucking crazy."

"That's... Not what I expected... Even with the stuff you told me."  
"Yeah... It was awkward, to say the least." Wally winced. "He kept trying to talk to me, which is definitely not allowed, right? Yeah."  
"Well, I'm sorry."  
"And I forgive you. There - now we're on good terms!" Wally grinned, picking his punch up again and awkwardly wrapping the other arm around Dick's shoulders. "Can I call you 'babe' now?"  
"Alsolutely." 

"Alright, babe, what to now?" He took a sip of his punch. "Oh, wait, did you come over here for a drink?"  
Dick shook his head. "Not for me, for Barbara."  
"Who's Barbara?"  
"The pretty redhead over there, in the wheelchair." He pointed over in her direction, ladling a drink. "She's my ex."  
"Wait." Wally froze. "You dated Roy?"

"Yeah..."

"And you dated her?"  
Dick put the ladle back into the bowl, walking back to his side. "And why is that important?"

"And you're dating me?" 

"Yes, as far as I know."

Wally grinned. "Got a thing for redheads?"

Dick rolled his eyes. "Believe it or not, you are not the first one to say that to me."  
"Really?"

"Not. Even. Close."

"How many other redheads were there?"

"No comment."  
"Alright, so... Giving her a drink, then what?"

Dick smiled. "Well..."  
***

"Hey, Irene, have you met my boyfriend, Wally?" Dick introduced them, smirking. "Wally, this is my coworker Irene."

Irene put on the fakest smile he had ever seen from her, holding out her hand for her to shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Wally. I've heard so much about you over the past six months."

Wally blushed. "Well, it's nice to meet you. Yeah... I think Dick mentioned you?"  
"Probably not." She rolled her eyes. "No, I don't mind at all if he didn't."

"Even if he did, I would probably forget."

They both laughed, and Wally said something about the color of her dress, and they started talking... Dick didn't take an actual step back, but tuning out of the conversation a little bit, just watching them talk...  
Wally seemed like he belonged here. He was talking to Irene like it was natural, chatting about the plants she had gotten recently, about the work he was doing at the lab, anything and everything. And Wally, with his haphazard speaking style and enthusiasm kept the whole thing going from topic to topic, jumping around like it was the easiest thing in the world.  
Watching him, seeing the dim lighting on his face, the way it caught his curls and his forehead, even with the scar, his crooked nose and his perfect freckles, delicate lips and perfect chin.   
How had he not kissed that chin already? They had never kissed before, actually, but he had kissed his face before. But right now he wanted to, and really? He could.

Dick leaned up, kissing Wally right on the perfect little chin. "I'm going to go get some punch, would you like some more?"

Wally turned bright red. "Yeah, thanks babe."

And Dick blushed right back.

***

"So, Roy..."

"So, Dick..."

The first thing Dick did Saturday morning was call Roy. He had been too exhausted to call when he got home after dropping off Wally at his apartment, but last night was still running through his head. It was just a silly holiday party, with potluck-style food and a couple stupid little games, but it was so much fun with Wally by his side. 

Okay, he was definitely done for if he was enjoying work holiday parties.

"Wally came to the holiday party last night."

"He did!" Roy actually gasped. "That's- holy shit, I did not expect that. That's great! It is great, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dick was still smiling as he talked. "He said that he talked to you about my voicemail, so you already know about that..."

"I was there when he listened to it." Roy added. "And let me tell you, he was conflicted."

"He didn't seem conflicted at the party." He paused, thinking about that a moment longer. "Okay, never mind. He was a little bit, at first. But it didn't take long for him to... Warm up, I guess?"

"You turned on the Dick Grayson charm?"

Dick scoffed. "No, we... We talked it out. A little bit at the party, a lot in the car."

They had parked in the lot for Wally's apartment and talked for an hour, maybe a little more. Explaining things they had said before. Dick going over his paranoia, and Wally listening. The whole mess they made between that and Wally's anxiety...

But they had decided to put the whole 'fake' dating thing behind them. They were just together, now. Nothing fake about that.

Then they had kissed, and...

"I'm so fucking happy for you two." Roy sighed, and Dick could hear the smile in his voice. "Seriously. This is both exactly what I thought would happen and exactly what I hoped would happen."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you mean, Roy?"

"I knew that both of your suspicious natures could cause problems, if you didn't fully trust each other. Once you have Wally's trust you have it, but if it's broken..."

"Hard to build back up?"

Roy snorted. "Try impossible. I think he's friends with one person who he didn't immediately like. No, two - and they're both cousins."

"Well, that's... Good to know."

"Yeah, and it's hard to get your trust, period." 

"That's... Not so true..." Dick said, but he knew Roy was right.

"So when you fell apart..."

"You expected as much?" 

"Kinda." Roy yawned. "That's just how you two are, and if you worked I thought it would work, but if it didn't you could hate each other forever."

"Well, it's a good thing we don't hate each other forever?"

He scoffed. "You can say that again. Also, Dickie?"

"Yeah?"

"You can never say I'm a shitty matchmaker again."

"Yes I can." Dick rolled his eyes. "You have failed far more times that you've succeeded."

"Really? Seriously? Name one-"

"You don't want me to." Dick interrupted; he knew exactly who he was thinking about. "So?"

"Yeah, okay, that's completely fair. Alright-" Roy yawned again. "So, what happened after the holiday party?"

"I dropped him off at his apartment."

"Really? Nothing more from Dick Grayson, the easiest lay in all the land?"

Dick laughed. "If you were here, I would smack you."

"Nah, I'm just messing around. Seriously though... Don't fuck this up." Roy told him, voice softening. "Wally's a good kid."

"He's close to twenty five years old." Dick reminded. "And you say that like I'm not. A good kid, I mean."

"Just stay out of trouble." 

He snorted. "What, like don't take him dumpster diving?"

Roy laughed. "That was one time."

"You took me dumpster diving!"

"It was fun." He defended. "We had a great time."

"While that is true... You're the bad influence here."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"You shut up."

"No, you shut up and call your boyfriend." Roy told him. "He's probably freaking out about the whole thing and doesn't think you actually want to date him."

"Alright, that I can do."

"Okay. Bye, Dickie."

"Bye, Roy."

Dick hung up, and called Wally for the second day in a row. This time, he picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Dick."

"Hey, babe. How're you doing?"

Wally yawned. "Hungry. Do you want to go get breakfast? I know this great place downtown. It seems kinda like a front too, but..."

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are closed unless I post a prompt list (or something similar) to one of my tumblrs, Supertinywords or Supertinybats!
> 
> Comments are love <3


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